


Armageddon

by SlashCash



Category: DOOM - Fandom
Genre: Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Demonic Culture, Demons, Doom (2016), Doom Eternal, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gore, Horror, Language Barrier, Mentions of PTSD, Minor Character Death, Non-Canonical World Building, Power Dynamics, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slow Burn, Survival, Teratophilia, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:42:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 62,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26237326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlashCash/pseuds/SlashCash
Summary: Tags will be added as the story progresses. Updated weekly to bi-weekly.Survival has always been important to her family, from a young age, she was taught how to be independent and care for herself and others.Now, Margo has to put her skills to the test as hell opens it's bowels and spews forth demons to eradicate the human scourge.Along the way, she catches the attention of a certain demon.Asmond finds Margo, and uncovers a secret. A long dead mystery is dragged back to the surface. A long dead man is tasked to defeat his own devils. She, however, gets in the way and complicates things. Now, he doesn't know what to think, what to feel. But after centuries of cruelty and isolation, he never wants to be alone again.
Relationships: Marauder(s) (Doom)/Reader, Marauder(s)/original character
Comments: 56
Kudos: 79





	1. The Beginning of the End

**Author's Note:**

> "Demon Lords to the black soul pits of Babel, the Tyrants have long served as wardens and slavers of the infernal pits. ...Tyrants are tasked with overseeing the collection and extraction of sin-branded souls from the mortal world, their role in Hell ordained by the unholy sigil of the Elder Hell-gods. A sadistic master of lesser demons, the Tyrants are feared for their cruelty and malice."  
> -Codex entry

The cash register beeped as I rang up the next customer, "Thank you, come again!" I chirped as he walked off with his items.  
The bookshop carries an air of calm, the air smelled of dust and paper.  
"Welcome to Keith's Bookshop, I'm Margo Bishop, please let me know if you need any help!" I said with a smile.  
"You're doing great, Margo." My manager, Keith, told me with a thumbs up.  
Keith was a man in his early 30's, with sandy hair and blue eyes. I smiled back at him in response, pulling out my own book. There was a lull in the bookshop, two people browsed, no one else came in.  
I always liked the morning shift, it gave me more time to read.  
It was quiet, I could hear the soft sound of paper against paper as I turned the pages.  
"Just these two, Ma'am."  
I glanced up to meet the eyes of a young man. Putting the book down I ring up his books, one caught my eye.  
"Inferno, I didn't realize we carried this book, let alone this edition.  
"Yeah," he said, "It's a great find. I'm a big fan of Dante."  
"Enjoy then," I took his money and gave him his receipt, "Come again!"  
Keith's Bookshop had a section in special edition novels and old books, but was mostly more current stuff. I genuinely didn't realize we carried any of Dante's works, I would have to remember to see what other things were hidden among the shelves. 

The bell jingled twice, signalling an exit and an entrance.  
My brother walked in, swinging keys on his finger, "I've come to pick you up, Margo."  
"Great, you're 45 minutes early."  
Jason cursed under his breath, "I thought your shift ended at 11:00."  
"I switched with Sam, she's on maternity leave. You got dad's truck?"  
Jason laughed, jingling the keys, "Yep. Took a lot of sweet talking."  
"You're going home now, then?" I asked, not wanting him to wait on me.  
"Nah," Jason walked to the nearest bookshelf, "I'll browse. Any new releases?"  
"From Sanderson? Not yet."  
He grunted and crouched, searching through the exposed back bones of the books.  
He repeated this action for several minutes, occasionally pulling one off and putting it back after flipping through it.  
A notification dinged on my phone, "That's odd, I thought I turned the sound off." I murmured as I pulled it out, reading the screen with shock.  
One after another, phones popped off their notifications.  
"Emergency alert," Jason said, holding his own phone, "Probably a hurricane again."  
"It says to evacuate," I said with concern, "to the nearest fallout shelter."  
"What? We have one? Where do we even go?"  
Keith raised his voice, "I have it, they've got a list, locations for every county. Everyone get in their car and follow me."  
I grabbed my backpack from behind the counter and jumped up, not thinking to lock the register.  
"Get in the truck, Margo,"  
I stopped, "Keith, we need to get our dad!"  
"I need to lead these two to the bunker," I looked to see that the customers were following him, "I'll send you the location, check your phone in a minute."  
I nodded and climbed into the truck, Jason didn't wait to speed off.  
"Is it missiles? Bombs?" He asked urgently, swerving around parked cars half hazardly.  
"Uhhh," I pulled up the page again, reading the long paragraph, "It says 'foreign invasion.' It doesn't say from where, it says to run if you see any."  
Jason reached over and turned on the radio, immediately, a man was yelling.  
"-Unable to get to an evacuation center, stay inside. Do not engage."  
"How far away is the house?" I asked desperately.  
"Not far," Jason grunted, taking a sharp left turn.  
My phone pinged as Keith texted me the address, followed by him wishing us luck. I put the address into Jason's phone in preparation.  
The radio crackled, and then continued, "We do not know what they are, or where they came from.  
"The fuck does that mean?"  
I shushed him and turned it up.  
"The invasion has started in-" the radio crackled again, after a few seconds it came back, "-appears to be spreading at a severe rate. The soldiers appear to be... more static. It took even longer to come back this time.  
"-appears animalistic. Mutant. They do-..... attack savagely, do not engage. Run if-.... Do not engage. Evacuate immediately."  
The voice on the radio became more frantic, there were noises in the background.  
"The military is being-...... First in-.....then Tulsa."  
That was our town, the invasion was close to us then.  
"Evacuate to nearest military base or fallout shelters, Tulsa locations are-...... And the military base is farther in the East at-...... Evacuate immediately, this is not a drill," at this point, he was screaming, "Do not engage. If you are-.... The military will come to you, stay-..... Do not-"  
The static enveloped his voice, we waited tensley for a few minutes, but the broadcast did not come back.  
I flipped through channels, the same static played.  
Finally, I found one.  
"Hello, Oklahoma! The world is fucking burning, and we're going out with it, the music plays as the ship goes down! I'm Robby Red, goodnight, Oklahoma."  
Classic metal began to play in his place. 94.6, The Hot Rock channel, a local channel. Our dad listened to him often, he would be proud that Robby was going out in a blaze of glory.  
"Keep searching," Jason said urgently, I continued.  
We hit the hundreds, the ignored Cristian channels. They were playing too.  
"And God will rain hell fire upon the Earth, Judgment day has arrived, and it's too late to accept Jesus now. Damnation-"  
"Turn it back to 94.6."  
I did as he asked, classic rock pumped through the speakers.  
Similar to us, other vehicles were going fast and erratic. Nothing, however, seemed out of the ordinary, we didn't see anything wrong, just scared people.  
The truck lurched suddenly when Jason slammed on the breaks, narrowly avoiding a burgundy van.  
"Maybe we should drive slower?" I suggested nervously.  
"We can't risk missing dad,"  
"You think he'd wait for us?"  
Jason didn't answer.  
I was worried he wouldn't. Our father was a proud man, he prides independence over anything. This mainly circled around celebrating nationalism, but he held it on a personal level, too.  
'I don't wait on no one,' he had told me before, after he left me at home when we were planning on going to a party together. This was a couple years ago, but it rang louder in my head than over.  
"I don't think he's going to be there,"  
"Margo, we're not him, we won't leave him for dead. We have to assume he's doing the same thing."  
Guilt felt heavy on my chest, "You're right, I'm sorry."  
My brother grunted in reply, then said nothing more.  
The drive from home to my work was roughly ten minutes, it could be less if traffic wasn't slow.  
And it wasn't, I mused, everyone was going fast, driving against us on the other lane. As Jason turned onto our street, there were less cars. Our neighbors were hastily throwing things in their van, a woman with her baby were both crying beside it, another child hung onto her side.  
Jason slammed the breaks, not bothering to pull up the driveway.  
"Get dad, I'm going in the garage to get the guns."  
I nodded and hopped out, sprinting up the steps. I didn't bother shutting the door when I was in,  
"Dad!" I hollered, beginning to search through the rooms, panic filled my soul.  
"He's in the garage," Jason shouted from across the house, "We're loading the truck up, get anything important from inside.  
I began going through the rooms again, I grabbed the first aid kit from the bathroom, a baseball bat, a hand knife.  
I paused suddenly.  
"Mom's gun," I murmured under my breath, spinning to run into my father's room.  
It was usually locked, but luckily, it wasn't today. I flew the door open and immediately began combing through her dresser. It was untouched since the day she passed, her clothes were still neatly folded. Well, not anymore, I had thrown them aside in a panic. Distantly, I worried if dad would be mad.  
Finally, I found it, her small pistol. Dad had gotten for her on their anniversary. It was a smooth black, with a rose engraved into the side handle. Dad was always very pro-gun, and insisted she carried one always.  
Mom, however, never had to use it, but she did learn how to shoot it. It was the first gun I learned to shoot on, so it felt natural in my hands.  
I was about to shut the drawer when I saw her wedding band, I quickly grabbed that as well.  
"Cars ready," Jason shouted.  
"Coming!" I shouted back, grabbing smaller odds and ends as I went towards the garage door.  
Jason handed a backpack at me, it was dad's old hunting one, it was a scratchy camo pattern.  
"Look through it in the truck, throw all that in the back." I nodded and did as he said, keeping mom's gun and ring with me.  
"What did'y get?" Dad asked as I climbed in.  
"Couple different things. A bat, first aid kit, your hunting knife," I hesitated before continuing, "Mom's gun and wedding band."  
He started the car, "Good, keep those close, you have a chain? Put'r on."  
I took off my necklace, a simple, but strong gold chain. I slipped the ring on before putting it back around my neck.  
"Put the gun in'y belt, just like I tought'y."  
I did as he said, Jason hopped in and slammed the door, "We're ready. Did you say you have mom's ring?"  
"That's'y sisters, Jason, mom wanted'er to have it."  
"I know," he said, "I was making sure, dad."  
Our dad shifted the gear and pulled out, "Did you lock the doors?"  
"I got them, want me to hop out and shut the garage door?"  
Our dad grunted and Jason hopped out and did as he said he would.  
When Jason got back in, our dad spun the car around, reached the limit, and didn't go faster.  
Jason began to complain, but was cut off when our dad said, "You can't get to the destination if you're dead. Did'y speed with'r sister in the car?"  
"We were panicking!" Jason argued.  
"Don't matter, you protect Margo, y'don't put her in danger, nor y'self."  
"Okay, I'm sorry. Do you know how to get there?"  
"Sorry don't mean shit when'y dead. I know the way like the back of my hand, I've been planning for this."  
I groaned, "Dad-"  
"I told'y it would 'appen. I told'y and y' mother. At least we're prepared for'th bastards."  
I pulled my phone out again, thinking suddenly to check it for updates, "Did you read the-"  
"Yes! Describes them as small, red bastards, couldn't be anythin' but commies."  
"Dad," I started, staring down at my phone In confusion, "I don't think-"  
"Thought we took care of'th bastards in th' war. Think they can take us again. I tell y', they have a lot of hurt coming!"  
I began to drown them out, reading it.  
The statement was mostly the same, but there was still no clear description, which I thought was weird.  
"We're gettin' close, ready y' gun, Jason, they'll take the city first."

It took us 20 minutes to reach the bunker,  
Dad parked the truck and swung his legs out, pulling out his rifle as he did. People gave him worried looks but paid him no mind.  
I jumped out and grabbed my bag, not even knowing what was in it yet.  
Jason holstered a pistol to his side and grabbed a duffle bag out from the back, I could see the butts of guns sticking out.  
"Sir," a policeman pulled up, "guns are not aloud in the-"  
"I know my damn rights," our father hollered, yanking his wallet out of his pocket.  
He flashed the cop his gun license and nodded towards us, "My kids have'em, too."  
The policeman nodded, "I frankly don't know what we're up against, I'll allow the pass, but keep them visible and be responsible. If the military guard tell you to leave them, listen."  
Our dad curtly nodded and asked him where we needed to go.  
The policeman opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off as the screaming started.  
I couldn't keep up with what happened next, people were shrieking and running. I was swept with the crowd and forced from my family. I could see Jason shout something and our dad got back into the truck.  
Something else casqaded with the screams of horror, a deep, bellowing roar.  
I couldn't place it, and tripped over my feet.  
Falling, I hit the ground hard, everytime I tried to lift myself up, someone would trample over me. My backpack provided a little bit of protection against my back.  
"Oh god, no," Somebody begged near me.  
More people fell down beside me. More screams.  
Something wet and warm splashed against my side.  
Chaos erupted and all I could do was curl up and pray it would stop.  
Somebody grabbed my arm and forced me to my feet, they shoved me along and urged me to run.  
I turned, not knowing who it was in the crowd.  
But that's when I saw it.  
Impossibly large, impossibly alien.  
It towered over everything, taller than a double bus. It's skin was tan in color, and it's legs were like pillars, ending in short, blunt claws.  
The monster screeched out again, it's bellowing cries sounded like trumpets.  
I saw its face next, and couldn't stop my terrified screaming.  
I's eyes were set wide apart, and the skin of its lips were peeled far back from the jaw, revealing thick molars and sharp canines, large tusks jutted up from it's lower jaw. Massive horns sprouted horizontally and curled back towards its face.  
The Beast trumpeted again, turning towards my direction, where the crowd was thickest. In the distance, I heard more trumpets.  
It lurched it's body into a slow gate, each step shook the ground and vibrated into my body. Each step brought death closer.  
"Armageddon is upon us," a man screamed nearby, "God have mercy, Gabriel screams for us to come home."  
Not knowing what else to do, I turned, and began to run with the crowd.


	2. Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally, chapter two was 6,000+ words, so I had to split it up into two parts. Finally, the Marauder arrives! Well, technically in chapter three, but there's a double update today! Yay!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hunters of the Sloughlands, the Cacodemon lurks the bottomless and murky depths of Hell in search of easy prey. An aimless wanderer, the Cacodemon is mostly devoid of cognitive ability, sensory awareness, and otherwise commonly occurring impulses. Driven only by a singular desire to feed, the Cacodemon is likely to appear wherever there is flesh to be consumed, bringing with it an insatiable propensity for hunger. It is said that the Cacodemon bears some resemblance to the cycloptic titans of ancient Hell lore, leading Sentinel scholars to believe that the forgotten titans may yet live on in some disembodied form."  
> -ARC Files

Panic swelled and surged, beating against the people and forcing them down.  
I did what everyone else did, I ran. Suddenly, the earth shook harder. The people in front of me stopped suddenly and spun.  
I was shoved in both directions, people trying to escape the massive monster, and people trying to run back towards it.  
Twin trumpets rang in the air, signaling the arrival of more than one monster.  
I heard shots popping off then, far too many.  
Not knowing what else to do, I pushed and shoved myself, moving diagonally against both surges of people. I broke through the crowd and hit the ground hard.  
Deciding to stay down, I crawled. Not gracefully, mind you.  
Eventually, I saw a tipped over truck and changed my direction.  
My belly got wet as I dragged myself through a dark puddle. I didn't look, but the metallic smell told me what it was.  
I finally made it to the truck, climbing to my feet and running around it for cover. I drew my handgun, it felt so pathetically small when compared to the brutes that were attacking. Hesitantly, I put it back.  
I racked my brain, not knowing what the hell was going on. I never heard of something like this happening, only in movies and books.  
Shakily, I crouched and peered over the side of the truck.  
I could see the body's littered about, but couldn't spot my family or their car. Distantly, I could hear helicopters.  
Sirens were going off, mixing with people screaming.  
I spotted the massive monster then, it almost seemed to be corralling the group of people, another one that looked to be the same species was helping on the other side.  
The two beings trumpeted and seemed to speak to each other, their language hurt my ears and sounded nothing like something from the earth.  
I moved and continued to look around, not seeing our truck at all. They had left, then.  
Of course, it made sense.  
Sometimes, our dad would tell us, you had to know when to leave your group. If you couldn't save them, you had to trust that they could save themselves.  
So that's where I was, saving myself.  
With nothing else to do, I scanned the area for any more of those things and breathed deeply to steady myself.  
I rose to my feet and stared straight ahead.  
Adjacent to the designated fallout shelter was a thick stretch of woods. I didn't know how long it was but could see it stretch up hills a long way off.  
It would have to do, after all, they attack populated places first.  
I breathed deeply one last time and prepared to sprint. 

I had been running for as long as I could, not knowing much ground I covered. But, I couldn't hear the screams, and only heard the trumpets like a whisper. The trees were thick here, the underbrush clung and pulled at my jeans, urging me to stop.  
I couldn't though, not until I knew I was far enough.  
My lungs screamed and my legs burned, I'd have to stop soon. But adrenaline kept me going.  
Finally, I had to stop, slowing to a jog, the! A walk, then collapsing onto myself.  
I laid there for a while, listening to the quiet.  
I rolled onto my back, staring up at the sky. It would be dark soon, I realized.  
I'd have to stay in the woods and go out in the morning to try and find my family.  
Movement caught my eyes, suddenly. Way up in the sky. I thought it was helicopters, but they were so round. Like balloons. They were close enough that I could make out spindly things hanging off of the bottom.  
Watching it idly float around, I noted the pink color and awkward movements.  
It looked alive and it started dipping closer to the earth. It grazed the top of the trees now. With horror, I realized it was alive, watching it grab at the leaves with those spindly things. Two sets of arms, I could see now. The thing spun and rolled in the air, touching the branches and pulling leaves off of them.  
The thing had a massive mouth that split into different segments, like a bug. A single, huge eye sat in the center of it's face. Curious eyes.  
It looked dangerous but didn't act like it.  
I stayed where I was, hoping it wouldn't see me.  
Eventually, the balloon creature grew bored of leaves and began to float away, going towards the quiet trumpeting sound.  
My stomach twisted at the gruesome reminder.  
I waited and listened, trying to see if the creature would come back.  
Eventually, I sat up and moved to lean against a tree.  
Tentatively, I pulled my backpack close and unzipped it.  
I sifted through what was inside, glad my dad always kept survival packs handy. In case things went bad.  
In case of this.  
Inside, there were four expired protein bars and two dusty bottles of water. I found a fire starting kit, a cord that could be used to cut wood, a hunting knife, a spool of paracord, fishing line, and hooks. Not much else, the bag was mostly empty. There was also a small, thermal blanket and thick socks.  
I rose to my feet, deciding it was now or never for me to begin moving. I pulled water out of the bag, taking small sips. It tasted how it looked, dusty and old. But it was still good against my parched mouth. After I drank about a fourth, I put the water back into my bag.  
Gently, I touched my mother's ring on my necklace and prayed for good luck.  
Not knowing what else to do, I began to go back in the direction of our home. I hoped it was that way, though  
After a few minutes, a sound rang through the woods, making me freeze.  
I realized it was my ringtone, and stupidly fumbled for the device that was still in my pocket.  
For some reason, I hadn't checked to see if it worked.  
"Margo?" A voice shouted when I answered.  
"I'm here, I'm okay," I said, recognizing it as Jason.  
"Stay away from the city, they're fucking everywhere."  
"What is?" I asked hesitantly.  
Jason paused, "If you hadn't seen that huge bull-man, I don't think you would believe me. Some of them are people, they look like zombies and act like it too. And… and there are other things too, smaller things that throw fire, and huge dog things that run on two legs. I don't understand what's happening, it's like the end times are on us."  
"Armageddon," I whispered when he was done, "Are you sure?"  
"Yes, Margo. They're demons all eight, red and horned and terrible. But they're not like how we thought they would be."  
"Okay, what's the plan?"  
Jason grunted, "Stay away from the city. I got in contact with Keith, we're meeting at the old dam. You know the one, it was shut down before you were born."  
I confirmed that I did, and knew how to get there. Jason and I played there as kids, it's where I took down my first deer and cried.  
We told each other goodbye, and hung up, both of us need to conserve our phone batteries.  
Gathering my wits, I began my long walk to the dam. 

It was dark before I knew it, the air was cold, and carried a feeling of fear. I had to go towards the city in order to know how to get to the dam. I wasn't as adept as Jason and had to know at least where I was compared to the roads.  
Maybe if I was lucky, I could get a ride from somebody. Or maybe I should stay away from everyone else, people tend to act crazy when crazy things happen.  
Overall, it would probably take about a day's walk, maybe two on foot. Though the car, it would be so much quicker.  
Regardless, I only had one option, to walk. 

After a little bit, I finally made it back to the main road, some ways down from where the previous incident, massacre, took place.  
I didn't hear those massive brutes anymore, so I was thankful for that. Maybe they moved on, maybe they were asleep. I was too far to know and too scared to find out. So, I continued on.  
I was walking for a while now, the sun had set and was beginning to rise, illuminating the forest and lifting some of my fears. Throughout the night, I could hear distant sounds. Wailing mostly, ungodly sounds of torment. My thoughts began to wander back to the man I had heard in the crowd. Armageddon. Armageddon was upon us. Any other day, I would pay no mind to the words. But it seemed that Armageddon was happening. But, where was the Rapture? Is this how it is supposed to be? Would anyone really know? Could know? I felt hopeless then, I was just a scared child who didn’t understand what was going on and wanted it to stop.  
For the first time since it began, I started to cry. Heavy, hot tears and pulled my lashes down and sputtered down my cheeks and jaws. I couldn’t stop myself, a harsh sob racketed through my body, I was gasping. I stopped finally and collapsed down onto my hands and knees. I wanted to scream then but knew I couldn't. I wouldn’t dare. My chest constricted and my breathing increased once more, I fell onto my side. I couldn’t do anything but shake and cry, I couldn’t even breath.  
I must’ve passed out after a while because the next thing I knew, I was waking up to light dancing behind my eyes. I groaned and opened them, expecting to see clouds high in the endless blue.  
Instead, I was met with horror and smacked a hand over my own mouth to stifle a scream.  
Above me, there was an impossible number of creatures in the sky. The same balloon monster I had seen earlier, but thousands. The light had danced behind my eyes because the horde was so thick at times, the sun was briefly blocked out. High above, some near the treetops. I laid still and could do nothing but watch. They were all moving in the same direction, towards the heart of the city. The intent was clear in their movements, they were not bobbing idly or playing with the leaves. They were flying efficiently and fast, sometimes bumping into each other in the apparent excitement. I could hear them making noises at each other, garbles and sometimes a weird gasping-lunging noise. The latter sound was usually followed by a swift bite to another that had gotten too close. I could see smaller ones too, their round eyes much larger, and their teeth much smaller. Babies, I mused. They didn’t pay me any mind though, I feel like sometimes they would even glance down at where I laid. I’d hold my breath and stare back, but they would always break eye contact and continue on their journey. After I felt they wouldn’t come down to snatch me up, I stood to my feet and continued to walk. Luckily, the direction I was going was away from the hoard. After a while, it thinned out, and I only saw one balloon demon every so often. Demons. I suppose that is what they were after all. Nobody would argue with me.  
I walked for a few more hours but finally had to stop when I could feel blisters forming on my feet. I pulled my phone out and sent a text to Jason, letting him know I was setting camp for the night.  
“Be safe, no fire.” Was all he said back. It would be a cold night then, but I’d rather be cold than dead. I found a large bush that grew in clusters. I couldn't recognize the type right away but knew it at least wasn’t dangerous. The limbs grew outwards, there was just enough room for me to crawl in with my things. It wasn’t much, and it certainly wasn’t safe, but it wasn’t in the open either. I curled up near the thickest part and pulled out the water and a granola bar. I’d have to scavenge when I woke up, I realized. After my sad little meal, I pulled the thermal blanket and socks out and put them on. I used the backpack as a pillow and kept my shoes on, just in case. After a few shifting movements, I felt a little less than not comfortable and was able to slowly drift off into sleep. 

With a start, I awoke to the sound of heavy footsteps. They thumped and crashed through the night. Whatever was making them grunted and heaved out a deep sigh as a bull might. I held my breath and laid still, warding it to leave. The creature sounded big, but not as big as the beasts I had first seen. I don’t think anything could be that big. The thing huffed, and I could hear it stumble and hit the ground with a loud thud. A few seconds later, I heard what sounded like snoring, with small growls in between. I couldn’t leave, I realized. It was too close, surely it would hear me ruffle the leaves as I tried to escape. I would have to wait it out and hope it wouldn't find me. Eventually, exhaustion overtook me and I fell back asleep. 

When I woke up, the sky was just beginning to light up, I could hear the forest begging to awaken. The birds could still be heard chirping. I almost thought it had all been a bad dream, that perhaps I had just woken up, and we were all camping together. I couldn’t hear whatever beast had visited me in the night either. After a few minutes, I gathered my things into my bag and crawled out from my hiding place. Indeed, I found no monster. It must have moved on, but I could see where it had laid. The ground was scuffed up quite a bit, and I could see footprints in the hardening mud. They looked like elephant prints, tipped with sharp claws instead. They were about the size of my head, maybe bigger. Regardless, I turned away and continued on my journey, treading lightly and more carefully this time. After more agonizing hours, I heard water bubbling in the distance. I almost cried in relief, knowing I was close. Indeed I was, after about thirty minutes of following the water, I found the old dam. Soon after, I found the old truck waiting for me. I cried out then and ran, “Jason! Dad!”  
“S’that Margo?” I watched my dad jump out from the truck, grinning madly. It almost seemed like he was going to cry, too. Jason was definitely crying when he saw me., though. I was enveloped in their hugs.  
“Keith found a small militia of army men, we have a group to go back too. But dad and I wouldn't leave you behind.” I hugged him harder, “When do we leave?”  
“Now, get in the truck, dad and I have a hell of a story for you.” 

My father and Jason had followed the massive bull demon for some time. The far set, red eyes still gleamed in my memory, the impossible height. They had been trying to figure out if I was in the crowd of people, that were apparently being herded like cattle. There were two demons in total, and they just trumpeted to each other and grunted lowly, an odd sort of communication. After a while, they began to move the crowd farther into the city.  
“Bull’s Eyes,” Jason had called them, resentfully. When they realized I was, in fact, not in the crowd, they moved on. Some people would have called it selfish, but it was self-preservation. It was necessary.  
The group was only a few people and two or three people from the military. Altogether, including us, there were eleven people.  
A woman spoke, adorned in camo pants and exposing dog tags proudly, “We’re going to regroup with more of our team, then we’ll figure out where to go from there.”  
“Do you know what’s going on?” Someone asked from the crowd. She grimaced, “We don’t know, this isn’t our field of expertise, we were called in when the… invasion happened. All we know is what was clearanced to us. Mainly, that there will be more.”  
I spoke up, “What about the shelter? What happened to it?”  
“The shelter,” she sighed, “Was only temporary until we could evacuate to a truly safe space. It has already been overrun, there’s no point in going to it. We have to either wait for the big guns to show up or make the move ourselves." And without any more words, we set out, two trucks quietly making their way to an unknown location.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment if you so wish, I try to reply to everybody I can! The next chapter had immediately been updated!


	3. The Bludgeoner and the Bludgeoned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maurader finally shows up, next chapter will let the slow burn begin!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The Hell Knight, warrior beast among demons, has earned its place over the millennia in service of the eternal Archdemons. As imposed by the sovereign houses, Hell Knights have long served as barbaric enforcers of the Netherworld, impelling lesser demons by way of brutality. Rare among demon-kind for its innate regard from primal orders of hierarchy, the Hell Knight exhibits adherence to the prevailing rule of its demonlord masters. Requiring little compulsion on behalf of its highborne masters, Hell Knights readily serve the Elder Hell-gods for the extent of their lifespans, reaping great satisfaction in the way of war and desecration."  
>  -ARC Files
> 
> "The Hell Knight is a towering brute built for combat deep in the bowels of Hell. These diabolical beasts are the prized gladiators of the demon-horde. They relentlessly stomp towards their target, smashing their massive fists into the ground to create shockwaves that stagger their opponent and leave them vulnerable to bone-crushing melee attacks. The Hell Knight's powerful legs allow it to leap across large distances effortlessly, quickly closing the gap to its enemy."  
>  -UAC Files

Three months had passed since Armagheddon started.   
The group Keith had brought us too grew to about 46 individuals, a ragtag group of survivors. The invasion did, in fact, get worse as time passed. The amount and variety of demons we encountered grew exponentially. The sky had a constant overcast of copper colored clouds and the earth went through fits of quakes and lightening without storms.   
We were all forced deep into the woods, far from the city, but still close to the river. In our group, the men were typically trained to defend the settlement, hunt, and go on the occasional expedition. The women usually assumed the role of cooking, keeping order, caring for the few children present, and foraging for resources. Of course, these jobs were not always specific to a gender, our lead general was an older woman named Natalie (The original woman who I spoke too, months before). Some people will specialize and prefer certain things, but everyone must pull their weight and work for the settlement. This is the way now, Conflict happens, but it has to be done this way. I usually partake in the daily chores, but my favorite job is to forage in the nearby woods. I used to do this when life was normal, I’d collect the plants and other things while Jason helped with our dad. Dad told me that my mother used to do the same thing.  
I could never go far, but after persistent pleas and urges, I managed to convince my brother and Natalie to let me come with me. I was good at my foraging job, as long as I knew what to look for. And I had a keen eye and was just as qualified as Jason was.   
That's where we are now, deeper in the forest. Our task was simple enough, find a better place to camp. At night, we can hear the Jeckles howling in the distance, but they've been getting closer lately. We've never seen the Jeckles and don't care too, we don't know what they are either. A young boy whined when he heard them, saying they sounded like a dog, a Jeckle, he called it. The name stuck. The howl was loud and seemed distorted, more of a wail at times.   
My inner monologues were interrupted when Don spoke up suddenly.   
"We should camp near a water source, the river isn't far. We should try there."  
I jumped at the sound of his voice, it broke the silence like a knife through fat. I looked over at the man, Don was probably in his late 40's, with already graying hair, but he was healthy, ideal for the team. He had a shotgun slung across his shoulder, and his knife looped onto his belt. My own knife was in my bag, I didn’t have a belt to put it on. My mother's gun was in there too. After the first month, it began to stop working properly, some inner mechanism refusing to do its job. So, until I could figure it out myself, or find someone else, it was useless, but not forgotten. Firearms were frowned upon on the camp anyway, due to all the children running around. The watchers had them of course and the militiamen.   
"That's too obvious," I finally said to Don, "Everything else will be looking for water too. Camping right at it is begging for trouble."  
"Do those things even drink water?" Don asked, quizzically.  
I shrugged, "Do you want to risk it?"  
Another man spoke up, "And what do you think, Margo? Should we dig holes in the sand and live like rabbits?" He chewed on my name like it was a piece of bad meat, he obviously didn't like me. Tanner was his name, a younger man, clearly upset that a recruit like myself was bucking up to the older ones.   
"We should stay close to a water source, but far enough to not track attention from those..." I paused, cringing as I continued, "things."   
“Demons,” Tanner spit.  
Natalie spoke next, "Good idea Margo, but we need more than that. We need specifics." She was testing me too, but I was used to it by now.   
I thought for a moment, then grinned, confidently stating, "mountains!" No one spoke, so I continued, "We could see danger coming from all angles, and have time to prepare."  
"Good thinking," Natalie smiled, signifying I had passed the test. I turned my attention on her, explaining that we should move the group onto higher ground, hills at the very least. We still need cover, as we couldn't burrow. Natalie told me she would consider it, but we couldn't move the group to such an extreme right away.   
After a while, Natalie stopped the group. "We'll rest here, and continue north."  
I heaved my backpack off of my shoulders, grateful for the break. In our group, I was near the front with Natalie. Partially because I knew her already, but also because it was easier to handle an attack from the front rather than from the behind, it was safer.   
"Finally, I'm going to go take a piss," Tanner exclaimed, walking away and into the underbrush.   
I sat on a nearby rock, surveying the group I had been assigned too. The group was an even ten, with Natalie and I being the only women. I knew Don, he volunteered with the cooking crew when he wasn't on an expedition. And my brother, of course. He liked to be closer to the back but didn't like to stray far from me. The other men appeared to range between the ages of 18 to 50. All had some form of weapon, most had guns. All held the same haunted look that barely lingered in the eyes, the look revealed that each had seen equal horrors. Some bore scars, some bore nothing, telling of a lucky escape. I didn't want to learn their names, it makes it easier if they go... when they go.   
Time passes, water and rations are handed out, and short stories are told.   
"Alright," Natalie announced, "we're leaving in ten, pack up. We're losing daylight."  
"Sitting ducks," Don muttered, looking around solemnly.  
Minutes passed as everyone got ready, after a headcount, it was revealed that someone was missing.   
"Fucking Tanner," Natalie sighed, "Go in groups of three, find the lug and bring his ass back."   
People paired up and fanned out, naturally, I was with my brother as well as Don.  
"I think he went this way," I said, gesturing to the underbrush.  
"I hope you're right because I don't want to be separated for too long," Jason muttered.  
We set out, going towards the direction I had indicated. Not even five minutes passed before the smell hit me.  
"Jason, Don, I smell death."   
“I smell it, too,” Jason muttered. Years of going hunting and fishing with our dad left us practically trained to sniff it out.   
Indeed, the thick smell of meat was in the air, as well as the tangy copper smell. Jason assumed the front and led us towards it. Tanner was known to rifle through corpses and scavenge dead things. He did the dirty work no one else wanted to do but was necessary.   
"Tanner," Jason shouted, "we're leaving, get your ass over..." he moved an overhang of leaves to reveal a clearing, "-here."  
His voice fell, I knew what had happened before I saw it. Despite my better judgment, I pushed past Don and joined Jason at the edge. We had indeed found Tanner, but not as we hoped.   
The sight was gruesome, but I forced myself to drink in the details. This was our life now, this was the new normal. I had to get used to it and know how to cope. Teeth and claw marks were raked across Tanner's body, blood still stained his flesh. His face, though, held a look of surprise but not agony. He didn’t suffer then.   
"He died quickly," Don muttered.  
Jason shuffled nervously, "We need to get back to the camp, now."  
"Wait, Jason," I started, "he's not been here for longer than twenty minutes. The smell..." I trailed off. Jason quickly caught onto what I was saying, "it's not strong, it's close still."  
"Do we-"  
"We go back. Now. We find Natalie, we get the fuck out of here. Chances are there's only one, it doesn't seem strong since the body-"  
He stopped short, the sound of guns popping off in the distance alerted us to the obvious. Jason immediately turned towards the sound, drawing his pistol by the looks of it.   
"You have another gun?" I breathed, pulled out a pocket knife from my pocket. I had stupidly forgotten my own blade in my backpack. Luckily, dad always insisted on pocket knives.   
“No.” Jason grunted.   
"Don?"  
Don prepared his shotgun, and shook his head, but pulled his belt off and tossed it to me.   
“Gotta get that gun fixed," He muttered. I put on the belt half hazardously, drawing the blade when I finished latching it. It was a machete, I realized and slipped the meager pocket knife back into my jean pockets. It was heavy in my hand but easy to hold. The handle was stained cherry wood, an owl was carved into it. The blade was rusted on the edges, or maybe it was stained. It was sharp enough alright and large.  
"Stay behind me, Margo. Don, stay close and take the lead."  
His plan made sense, a shotgun for close, a pistol for range. And me, hiding behind them both, but also watching from behind. We moved through the woods, towards the pop pop popping in the distance. It was here where I was looking behind me, maybe this is how we got ambushed. Don didn't have time to react, he was pulled onto the forest floor, and dragged. He shot wildly at what was in front of him, Jason joined. A metallic screech sounded, Don was released, and the creature slinked into the darkness. There was a sound as if it fled, similar to maracas, or the rattle of a rattlesnake.   
"Bleeding?" Jason asked, rushing to help him to his feet.  
"Bitch got me good, I think I can walk through," Don stood with some difficulty, blood steadily flowing from a wound on his lower calf. It appeared to be a clean slice, as if from a weapon, but it was deep.  
I turned away, gagging at the horrible smell that was still present. Jason worked to help Don, leaving me to stand watch. The knife shook in my hand, I gagged again. The smell was stronger now, thick and musty. I turned wildly now, "It's back, the smell. Jason!"  
"I have to help, Don!" He shouted back, I don't think he took in what I said.   
I heard it then, shuffling the leaves. I turned, meeting its eyes. It was then when I realized the light was steadily fading as dusk approached. The eyes were in the shadows, small and white, reflective. They were a couple of feet off the ground, it was small.   
"I can take this," I muttered confidently, "even without mom's gun."  
As if in response, the creature growled, a deep rumble that shook my core. I heard the heavy footsteps come forward, the eyes began to ride high. In the fading light, I watched as the monster rose from it's crouching position. Its full-height must have been eight feet, I realized with mounting horror. 

"Jason!" I shouted as it came into the, "It's a bludgeoner!"  
This time, he heard me, cursing and pulling Don back up to his feet.   
Bludgeoners weren't common in our area, we mostly heard reports about them. They were solitary hunters that occasionally worked in packs. Vaguely human in design, I shook before it. Its small eyes stared down at me, its gaping jaws salivated like a dog. The head appeared skull-like, with a human-like nose cavity, and large, blunt teeth with no lips. The head had two fleshy bumps that almost looked like an exposed, oversized brain. It pulsed with excitement.  
I backed up, the hand wielding the knife fell back to my side. It followed on digitigrade legs, heavy steps mimicking my own. I looked uneasily at Jason and Don. I whined out of fear, backing away again. Once more, it followed, stepping forward slowly, putting each foot down carefully and quietly. The Bludgener sniffed the air and cocked its head from one side to the other, not unlike a curious bird.   
"Jason, what do I do?" I murmured.   
"I don't know, I've never seen one do this, it's... mimicking you. Go to the right with your next step."  
"I don't want to do this," I said under my breath but stepped to the right. The creature followed, eyes locked with mine.  
Don picked up his shotgun and cocked it. The Bludgeoner made a deep "kurrr" sound as it turned to look at him. Without hesitating, Don aimed at the beast’s head and pulled the trigger. I cried out when I heard the shot. Thick, dark blood splattered across my shirt. The Bludgeoner let out a scream that bellowed out into a roar. Don had missed his mark, hitting the shoulder instead. It was blown open, I could see bone and ligaments attaching to the frayed edges of muscle. The demon lurched forward and stumbled, coming mere inches from where I stood. Its eyes met mine once more before it stood to its full height, its shadow cast over my body, swallowing my pitiful frame. It turned to Don, however, and bellowed again. Jason tried to grab the man, pull him out of the way, but it was too late.   
The Bludgeoner grabbed the shotgun from his hands, ripped it away, and tossed it aside. It then took hold of Don's head in a single, great fist. Lifting him high above the ground, the beast crushed his head as if it was nothing. A crack sounded throughout the quiet forest, along with the sound of brain matter squeezing between massive fingers. Don was dead, but the creature wasn't finished, but I spun and ran, not waiting to see what else it would do. Jason ran after me, the splintering sound of bone and meat did not escape us.   
By some dumb luck, we ended up the way we came, crashing through the forest. I was the first to make it back to the clearing, only realizing I was there because I saw my bag a few feet away. Jason followed, and froze, "We need to get out of here."  
"But, the others-" my words died in my throat as I looked before the scene in front of me. Five bodies were hanging by chains in five different trees. Some strung up by their hands, some by their feet, one had a metal hook in their exposed ribcage. All were dripping blood and in some way mangled and deformed. The closest to me was still moving, alive, but there was nothing we could do. His stomach had been cut open, his entrails hanging loosely, his bottom jaw was missing as well, tongue hanging on by mere threads. After several seconds, he became as still as the rest.  
The leaves on the far side shook, Jason readied his gun, prepared to shoot. However, we were both surprised and horrified when Natalie appeared, stumbling, and falling over. Her foot appeared to be mangled, Jason started towards her in an effort to help. I grabbed his shirt, gesturing to her leg, a large hook was threaded through her calf, the chain leading into the forest where it remained taught, just barely above the ground. The sound of a snake rattling could be heard just beyond the bush line, but it was already beginning to be too dark to see in the shadows. Jason steadied his gun beyond Natalie.   
She shook her head in desperation, "Go, run," she wretched violently in between, "It's a... trap."   
"We can't leave her," I whined.  
"But how can we help her? We have to go now if we want to leave."  
"Leave?" A voice further down echoed, "We haven't even been acquainted yet." The voice was deep and rough, it was dangerous, it was distorted.  
That's when he appeared.   
A man walked out slowly, from behind Natalie, he stepped over her broken body and continued towards us. He locked eyes with me, they were a deep red and seemed almost slightly illuminated in the dying light. His eyes were sunken into his skull, I could see now that the skin was tight there, I could see the cheekbones, the jaw was angled sharp. His skin was grey, and seemed to be decaying in some places, and then healthy in others. Mainly, his chest and arms were heavily muscled, but his face was decrepit. It was apparent that man was not human, not anymore, anyways.   
"Margo," my brother spoke in a low, quiet voice, "I want you to run, don't stop running, don't look back."  
I wanted to argue, I wanted to scream and fight, but I also wanted to listen to him. I wanted to run and hide and pretend everything was okay.   
I heard that sound again, a quiet "kurrr." I turned ever so slightly, the Bludgeoner had found us. He carried a bloody carcass with him, I didn't need to look to know who it was. Not that I could tell anyway. I realized that somehow, through all that chaos, I still had the knife in my hand. Shakily, I slid it back into the sheath at my side. It would do me no good.   
“Bring me both.”  
"Now!" Armin yelled, spinning to fire at the Beast.   
I bolted back into the woods, running between the Bludgeoner and the grey-skinned demon. Tree limbs whipped at my cheeks, thorns cut at my legs, and it was hard to concentrate to not trip and fall. It felt cowardly to run, but I was terrified. Whatever that man was, he spoke our language, something none of us have seen. Most of the demons we encountered didn't speak at all, some hissed in their cursed tongue, some garbled words our brains couldn’t comprehend. But never had one spoke back to us like that. The attack had been tactical, we were tricked and ambushed. Tanner was the bait, we were all the targets though. This thing wasn’t a mindless, possessed, husk that the zombies were. Nor was he like the bloodlust animals we encountered.   
Crashing sounded behind me, the horrible smell enveloped the area. The Bludgeoner had given chase after all. I silently hoped it hadn't gotten Jason.  
Our cat and mouse game didn't last long, though. The beast leaped on its great legs and landed in front of me. I didn't have any time to react, because when it did, it slammed its fists into the ground. The ground shook, but there was something else, some kind of energy. I cried and fell before the beast, my muscles spasming. It didn't move for a moment, watching to see what I would do next. I tried to stand but found I could barely prop myself up on my arms.   
Overwhelmed, I could do nothing but whine as the Bludgeoner grabbed at me. I was too afraid to struggle at this point though, after seeing what it had done to Don, I didn't want it to happen to me. I felt as if I was a meager bug, left to the mercy of a monster.   
It took mere seconds for the Beast to bring me back, it took long leaping strides through the woods. Breaking through the treeline, I was thrown into the ground half hazardously.   
By this point, I had begun to regain control over my body and started to get back up.   
Large boots stopped just in front of where I was, I scuttled backward a bit and looked up. The grey-skinned demon stared down at me. I got a better look at him now that I was so uncomfortably close.   
I could see now that he had large, dark bronze-colored horns that curve up and back, set over his brow. Another set grew from behind those, following the curve of his jaw. There didn't appear to be any hair on his body. He wore armor that resembled a knight. It looked to be metal, overlapping in long sheets. It covered one arm completely, stretching to form an odd breastplate that covered more than half his chest. A pulsating red light was at the center of this one. On his other arm, the armor covered one shoulder and only the lower half of his arm. His fingers ended in sharp, blackened claws. His lower half was completely armored, sheeted metal hung over his thighs, protecting the flexible chainmail, it wrapped behind him too, parted into four separate layers. On the left side, four small skulls hung from a leather strip. His belt featured an odd symbol in the center, I didn't recognize it. A double-barrel shotgun hung at his side, it was a small single-handed one. I flinched as he crouched down to my level, a clawed hand touched the hair that fell in front of my face.  
"There you are," he mused, "I was afraid you'd miss the show."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Hellknight behaves oddly in this story, but it will be explained in upcoming chapters.


	4. The Hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "A scavenger of the Hellscape, the Whiplash creature was first discovered... in the black desert of the Sanctum Wastelands. These elusive, serpentine demons move with great speed and agility. They are capable of striking from a great distance with retractable bladed whips concealed from within their forearms. This particular demon breed became an object of great interest to the UAC engineers on Earth, while attempts to capture live specimens of this nimble and unpredictable creature proved to be exceptionally dangerous. After successfully acquiring living specimens, researchers implemented cybernetic augmentations designed to enhance the Whiplash's innate strength and lethality."  
>  -UAC Data Entry
> 
> See End Notes for a translation guide. I hope everyone can tell when the speaker is speaking through the demonic language, ao3 won't let me italicize. But, I could've sworn I've seen other authors do this, does anyone have any suggestions that would help me?

The demon stood up to his full height, his shotgun clicked against his metal armor as he walked away from where I was on the ground.   
"It's so little that I get to have fun," he muttered, "and as for you.” At his word, a demon scurried out of the underbrush.  
"Sirem?" It hissed, fear plain on its face.   
"Yes, I believe we need a demonstration. Because," he raised his voice, "I will not tolerate Erash'eam. This negligence, this disrespect." He walked around, I realized that as he did, more demons were appearing. There were about twelve, maybe more, most appeared human-like. Some of the human-looking ones had spikes running down they're shoulders and back, their mouth exposed sharp teeth that gnashed, the skin was red. Among this group was the Bludgeoner, standing near me, and two other creatures were present. They both appear woman-like in nature, the bottom half of their bodies resembling a snake. Interlocking metal made up the tail and abdomen, beginning inside the ribcage. The creatures swayed in their spots, making that low rattling sound I had heard earlier. I realized sickly, that one had a prominent wound on its stomach, rotting entrails hung out, but appeared not to phase it. Long horns curved up and over the head, curling over exposed brain matter. The back of the head supported some sort of hair, thick and black and cordlike. The arms were covered by some kind of black material, a wicked, curved blade held in each hand. The bottom jaw was split, shaped teeth jutted out, and didn’t quite fit with the upper jaw. The skull was angled sharply and had prominent cheek-bones. There appeared to be no meat on the skull itself, it was wrapped with thin skin. Solid red eyes sat deep in the skull, I could see them rolling as it looked around. The grey-skinned man nodded towards the snake demon, "Start with the woman." A moment of terror flashed through my eyes, then cold realization replaced it as the monstrosity slithered towards Natalie. I could hear Jason yelling, begging, cursing. I said nothing, unable to look away as she was brought to her feet, held on by either side by the red, spiked demons. They moved away from her, spreading out her arms, exposing her midsection. The snake stopped roughly ten feet from where Natalie stood. Almost seemed to pose for a moment, proudly. Natalie stood bravely, chin high, and eyes steady on the beast in front of her. Metal grinding against metal sounded throughout the forest, the snake creature thrust its arms out in a sweeping motion, and then inwards. The blades in its hands swung out in an arch, attached to its wrists by chains. The chains briefly crossed before each blade was buried deep in Natalie's chest, each hooked on either side. She howled out in pain, unable to save the brave face any longer. The creature grabbed onto the metal chains and ripped then outward. All at once, Natalie’s chest cavity was exposed. Her ribs cracked and her muscles ripped at the excessive force. Organs previously protected by ribs sagged out, some bared the horrible scar that the blades had left. From my position, I could see her heart desperately trying to pump blood, but it free flowed from seemingly everywhere. Natalie was left to die, it didn't take her very long. I couldn't look away, tears welled in my eyes,  
"The boy, next." The second demon glided up to Jason.  
"No!" I screamed, "No, please!" I scrambled to my feet, the Bludgeoner made a move to grab me again, but quickly backed away. Before I could react, the grey-skimmed man was in front of me, so close I could feel the heat radiating off of his mostly bare chest.   
"Why?" He snarled and leaned down, eyes meeting mine. I stared and couldn't find the words. He waited, and finally, I stammered, "They're all dead, you killed them all. Please. Please let my brother and I go. You made your point, your demonstration. Please."   
The demon stood up, mulling over this idea, "I can't just do that."  
"Why not?" I cried out, like a belligerent child. The Bludgeoner behind me started chittering, saying something broken in its cursed tongue. The grey-skinned demon looked at it and said something I couldn’t understand. The massive brute chittered back once more, clacking its teeth impatiently. But the man shook his head, his great horns swinging, muttering to himself, "This is what I get? Defects?" The Bludgeoner didn't say anything else but moved in an agitated manner. When they stopped, I spoke up again, "What if we made a deal?"   
His eyes moved back over to where I was, "No."  
"I challenge you to fight," I said, chest swelling with the same bravery Natalie had shown. It didn't get her anywhere, but I could stall, and maybe help would come, or maybe Jason could get away. My brother yelled, pulling at the demons who held him back, "Don't touch her! Fight me! Coward!" The man paused, thinking it over, and then I could his cheeks raise up in a smile, "You want to fight me?" I nodded, swallowing my fear, "If I win, you let us go."  
"And if you don't?" I didn't say anything, didn't have too. Jason bad stopped yelling, watching tensely.   
"You're in no position to make demands, Noushbow. But I will humor you. We will do the Housh'toug, the Hunt." I blanked, never hearing that word before, but not liking the sound of it.   
He turned away, shouting orders in his native tongue. The demons slipped away, moving swiftly and silently. Only the Bludgeoner stayed. Jason was momentarily released during this, but the Bludgeoner quickly shadowed him, snarling lowly.   
"It will be just you and I, do not mind the others, they are going home now."   
I steadied myself, a few feet away from where he stood, "What is the Hunt?" He chuckled softly, the sound reverberating through his metal mouth-piece, "Oh, Noushbow, sihge Noushbow. It is an ancient tradition in my culture. I will tell you how to do it, but I will also let your brother go as a sign of good faith. He can't accompany us, after all." Jason cursed at the man but fell silent as the Bludgeoner came closer. The man continued, "My Hell Knight will escort him out of the forest, and ensure he won't come upon us again. But he will be left alive."   
"How can I believe you?" I muttered honestly.  
"You have my word, but I cannot give you much else, sihge."   
I nodded, not having much choice. The grey-skinned demon nodded towards the Bludgeoner, his Hell Knight. It picked Jason up and charged through the forest with impossible speed and power. I heard Jason briefly say something, but then he was gone. It was quiet now, everything else seemed to be gone as well, it seemed almost peaceful.   
"Keep your knife, it won't do you much good though. You have until the Vousch caresses the sky."  
"What?" I said dumbly.   
He spoke slower, walking away from where I was, "I'll give you until the moon is at its peak. A true fight would not be fair to you, make it to dawn. You are the Voulpgah. You are the rabbit." My eyes widened slightly at the not-so-subtle nickname, "And what are you?"   
"I am the Fraen'zean," he turned his head to meet my eyes, "I am the wolf." My breathing hitched, I stuttered again and fought to control myself, "This still hardly seems fair." He arched an eyebrow that didn't exist, "How so?"  
"Your armor, your gun," I said. He laughed, "Nothing gets past you, sihge Voulpgah." He began to undo the straps that held his chest armor together. He let the pieces fall to the ground, clattering together as they did. He pulled off his arm piece, letting it fall to the ground. He was now completely bare from the waist up, making no move to remove the armor of his legs. I could see every detail of his chest, and it made me blush despite the situation. In another circumstance, he would have been beautiful. Along his chest ran black veins from a single central point near his left breast, where his heart must be.   
"I keep my ax, as it is necessary for the Hunt." I looked at what he was talking about, it looked more like a club than an ax, but horns grew from the carved skull and went outwards, mimicking a double-sided ax blade vaguely. The shaft of the weapon was carved to resemble vertebrae forming into a spine.  
"Run, Voulpgah." He muttered, holding the weapon outstretched in my direction, “You're running out of time."

My shoes collided with the hard, unforgiving ground, I ran with ferocity and desperation. I had been doing this off and on for a while, the moon was only just reaching the high point in the sky. I slowed and changed directions for the third time, not knowing where I was going exactly, but knew it was away from the clearing. I couldn't hear the demon, hadn't heard him at all. Hadn’t heard anything actually. But I did turn just in time to see a radiant red light rising in the distant sky. Fire, I assumed, that alerted me that it was time. The Hunt had begun. I ran harder for several more seconds, realizing I would have to stop eventually, I couldn't do this all night, the sound would alert everything. hopped over a fallen tree, pausing to observe my surroundings. The tree dug into the ground, creating a deep crevice that was hidden by a tangle of dead branches. It would have to do, I had to rest. I shoved myself into the farthest wall and stayed still, listening and waiting. Before long, I heard heavy footsteps, traveling slowly in the dark, every so often, he would pause, and continue. I covered my mouth with my hand and tried to even my breathing, drawing the machete carefully. The steps stopped just near the tree, too close. He paused for a long time at this point, scanning the area I assumed. From above, I heard him clamber over the tree just as I did. His boots hit the ground hard, just in front of my hiding spot. He circled around then, scuffing the dead leaves and earth as he did. He walked farther away, and then came back, stopping in front of the hallow that I was in.  
"Good try," he said, amusement laced in his voice, "I'll give you another chance."  
I didn't move, afraid he was trying to trick me.   
"Ten."  
I breathed in and out, fear seizing my muscles.   
"Nine."  
I closed my eyes and reopened them, willing the fear to leave me alone.   
"Eight."  
I burst out of the underbrush, skittering past the demon, like a rabbit. Legs pumped hard to carry my tired body. The man was big, and his armor looked heavy, I could probably outrun him. I counted the seconds until he'd come, six.   
Five.  
I moved faster, breathing out each time my foot hit the ground.   
Four.   
I threw myself over another tree and briefly fell, scuttling on the ground to right myself   
Three.  
A sound cracked to life behind me, a wavering, crackling sound.   
Two.   
I saw red out of the corner of my eyes.   
One.  
I felt the heat before I saw it, a red beam of energy cut through the air and crashed against a tree, mere inches from where I stood. It cracked and burned the wood, charring it black. I screamed out in surprise and moved around it, heavy footfalls sounded behind me, I heard the sound again, the wavering, crackling one. But another beam did not come.   
Within seconds, he was upon me. One heavy arm wrapped around my stomach. I screamed as I was swung, momentarily spinning in space. The breath and sound were then knocked out of my lungs when my back smashed against a tree. One arm pushed against my chest and held me in place. I fought to breathe, shaking hands tightening around the blade I had somehow managed to hold onto. Blindly, full of fear and fury, I slashed at his chest with my knife. The wounds bled but didn’t stop him. Quickly, he put an end to my games, he snatched my wrist and beat it hard against the wood until I dropped the knife. It clattered uselessly to the ground, he didn’t move, one arm pinning me to the tree, one arm holding my wrist tightly.   
“It’s over, Voulpgah, you have lost.” He spoke slowly, simply. His voice said that he took no pleasure in this, it simply was what it was.   
“No!” I definitely said back, “It’s not over until I’m dead.” He chuckled, “You are an odd one. I will make it quick. Close your eyes, Voulpgah, it will be easier.”  
I lowered my gaze, not fighting in his grasp, my free hand slipped to my jeans. A small lump caressed where it fell, it was within my pocket. The pocket knife, pathetically small and forgotten. The demon moved from grasping my wrist, to gently holding onto my neck. He held his hand there, stroking the skin softly, “It will not hurt. Close your eyes.” I pulled it out of my pocket, flicking the blade open. The demon’s eyes widened slightly at the noise. I screamed with all of my rage, plunging the blade into his chest, right at the spot where all the black veins connected. Right where his heart was. The man shouted in pain, backing up on instinct. I took the opportunity and further shoved him away, twisting the blade as I did and leaving it in. I pulled myself from his grasp and maneuvered around him, spotting the ax where he had dropped it. I picked it up, it was heavy, but I managed to position it behind me like a baseball bat. The metal handle was cold against my hand, the ridges in it felt smooth, felt right. His eyes met mine briefly before I brought it down against his head. It collided with his horns, but the outstretched spike of the ax's skull cut his face. I drew back, preparing another strike. A newfound strength and power resonating within me, flowing through my blood, I felt as if something had unlocked within my very soul.   
“This,” I yelled, “Is Housh'toug, this is the Hunt. I am the Voulpgah, and I do not die easily!”   
Electricity crackled against my skin, warm and painless. I turned, watching the mouth of the ax open, the teeth came apart, and red energy blasted out. On either side, massive blades rose and cut through, materializing into our mortal plane. Alien lettering ran down the length of the twin blades, they resonated power, but I could not decipher them. It glowed dangerously, wavering in the night, illuminating the dark. I turned back to the demon, he stood with his arms out, palms facing me.   
“Near’ghd planea?” he said, eyes wide with disbelief and confusion. I swung the blade hard, he was out of my reach. But it didn’t matter, energy shot from the blade and crashed into his chest, searing and slicing the exposed skin. He grunted in pain and moved to the side. I had the upper hand, but he, apparently, had speed. Indeed, he was inhumanly fast, a blur that sidestepped me and stopped just behind where I stood. But I spun with him, thrusting the ax downwards in a high arc. This time, he caught the weapon by the handle and jerked it forwards. I was thrown off balance, crashing momentarily into his chest. I saw his eyes, wide with bewilderment, and in almost a panic, he drew his fist backward. Pain erupted across my face, and suddenly I was on my back. I couldn’t feel my jaw anymore, and black had started to crowd my vision, I couldn’t move, couldn't scream. The demon's shape appeared in my dying field of vision, he was saying something. But I was already gone, slipping easily into the black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .:Demonic Language Translations:.
> 
> Sirem - a term of respect; sir.  
> Erash'eam - disrepect  
> Noushbow - a lighthearted jeer; a fool.  
> sihge - a term of endearment; darling.  
> Housh'toug - a Sentinal tradition; direct translation: Midnight Hunt.  
> Voulpgah - rabbit  
> Fraen'zean - wolf; dog.  
> "Near’ghd planea?" - "How is this possible?"
> 
> Thank you everyone for leaving kudos and reading my story! Please leave a comment if you have any questions, ideas, or anything like that!


	5. Pebbles

Softness cradled my body as if I was drifting among the clouds that inherited the new world. Warmness was steady through my body, and conscience was only just begging to sneak its way in. With it, was the telltale sign of pain, a distant stinging, red and angry, too hot to be among the warmth. Sounds slipped into my ears, I tried to listen to the words, tried to understand them. Something was distinctly wrong about them. Something bad. More words slipped into the sound, rising in volume until it was screaming. Mixed in with the hateful tongues, I could hear a human plea. 

_ "Please." _

My eyes shot open and I sat up, realization storming down my lulled sleep state. As I did, a pounding feeling returned to my head. A burning, sore pain enveloped through the side of my face. The dryness in my mouth was absolute and overwhelming.

I listened intently, only hearing the hateful slurs of the demons, the phantom voice seemed to be gone. I eyed my surroundings, adjusting to the dim light that floated up and over. I appeared to be in a large tent, the kind issued to military men, we had a few at our camp. At this revaluation, I grew hopeful, the demonic chanting outside smothered that, though. Inside the tent, old looking tapestries hung from the canvas walls. Slowly, I climbed out of the bed, my feet resting on course, braided carpet. The closest tapestry showed a group of people, all wearing armor similar to the demon who, I assumed, had kidnapped me. Behind them, mountains rose on a blackened sky, in the center, a figure stood with her arms out, insect-like wings spread with them. The bottom half of her body was shielded by the mountains. In the center stood one man who was drawn more intently then the others, lines exited his body to suggest he had been glowing. All looked human, none supported horns. Behind the group, there were cracks in the ground, and demons were crawling out.

I turned back around, I had been laying on a makeshift bed that looked like it could be taken apart and reassembled quickly. The mattress was thick, and the blankets were thicker. The colors were a brilliant blue, edged with a deep purple. The fabric was soft in my fingers. Near the entrance was some kind of stand, on it hung the armor I had seen the demon before, two spots were empty, presumably there for his weapons. My things were nowhere to be found, but my shoes were close to the bed. I turned my attention back to the entrance, a distant firelight cast light, and shadows that danced. Horrible, twisted shadows that belonged to worse figures. I tentatively made my way to it, carefully pulling one of the flaps back, just enough so that I could peak. Outside, there was a large bonfire, figures around it. The scene appeared… normal. The figures laughed and drank and ate, contrasting sharply with their harsh language. Then, a deep rumbling sounded through the room. I gasped and turned around, letting the canvas flap shut again. On the other side of the bed, on the floor, I could see a hoof-like claw just sticking in my field of vision. I crept closer. On the floor, next to where I was sleeping, laid the Hell Knight, curled up like a dog. Its small eyes were closed, and the rumbling noise was it snoring. There were pebbles placed in a circle near its head. I gawked at it, never seeing a murderous beast so placid. It slept so soundly I almost forgot the carnage it had created, the impossible strength and speed, the great leaps. 

My attention snapped when I heard a gruff voice yell outside of the tent. 

"This changes nothing." I turned to see a shadow against the backdrop, massive and bald, clawed hands, no horns. 

Another voice, familiar, yelled back out of sight, finishing with "This changes everything! You know the laws."

"Bullshit, this is different, the laws do not apply."

"It is not. He originates from Earth as well, this is the same."

The other one went silent, the air tight with tension.

"Do not mention him again," the other one said, voice acrid with venom, "All the more reason, I say. Has she woken yet? No? I will check, then." 

Alarm bells went off in my mind, I spun around and leaped into the bed. I tripped over the Hell Knights outstretched leg as I scrambled on the bed. It grunted but didn't wake. I then turned on my side and pulled the blanket up to my neck, feigning sleep.

The canvas billowed open, two sets of heavy footsteps entered. One stopped just in front of where I was, I could smell the obvious twang of copper. 

"Perhaps she will never wake up," the voice said in amusement, "Perhaps it is brain damage." 

"No," the familiar one grunted, something edging his voice, "I didn't hit her that hard."

Irritation fired in my belly, that's why my head hurt so bad!

The new one sighed and I felt a cold hand brush against my face, "She does look like him, I'll admit that."

"You think it is possible then?"

The other one didn't say anything, the sound of fading footsteps signaled he had left, billowing canvas sealing his exit. A second, warmer hand touched my cheek then. Quickly, he drew back, stepped away, and moved to the other side of the bed. 

I heard a kick and a yelp.

"Some guard you are," he muttered. The other side of the bed sagged down as he sat, dragging my body closer as a result. He spoke calmly and quietly, "I know you're awake. You're lucky my friend isn't so adept."

I didn't move, but opened my eyes, staring at the wall in front of me. We sat like that for several seconds, I thought to ask him about the weird conversation. But demons were just, well, weird. Weird and mean. I didn't ask after all.

"Are you thirsty?" The bed shifted as he turned around. Hesitantly, I nodded, not looking away from where my eyes were fixed. It was another tapestry, this one depicted a great beast, taller than the mountains, small people, around his feet. He looked the same as other demons I had seen, thick horns coming off of his head. A massive maw full of massive teeth. I wondered if the earthquakes we had felt a whole ago has anything to do with these massive things. 

The man rose and left. I sat up, peering at the Hell Knight at the side of the bed. It peered back when I did, sitting down with its knees neatly tucked to its chest. It looked ridiculously small and big all at once. Without breaking eye contact, the animal reached down, grabbing something with the massive bulk of its hand. Then, it deposited the item onto the edge of the bed. I looked at it in confusion, it was a pebble. Rounded and flat, with tan stripes running along brown. I looked back at the Hell Knight, it wordlessly, slowly, pushed it closer to me with one finger. 

"I, uh, thank you," I stuttered, taking the pebble carefully into my hand. It chittered in response, clicking its teeth and looked like it was trying to smile. The absence of lips, having exposed teeth and gums, made that hard. And quite terrifying. This hardly seemed like the thing that attacked Don. I heart twanged at the realization that everyone on my team was dead. Except for Jason, if the demon had been honest with me. I put the pebble in my pocket, confused, but glad it wasn't being aggressive. The canvas curtain flapped open, the man walked back in, holding a metal cup. He handed it to me and sat back down on the opposite side. The silence returned, I drank the water. It was cold and I could take the metal bite. One sip was all it took and I was downing it like I've never drunk anything so luxurious. 

"I'm sorry I punched you in the face."

I choked on the water at the sudden apology, removing the cup from my lips. 

"Was," I paused, "Was that not a part of the, uh, the Hunt?"

He exhaled a laugh, "No, it wasn't supposed to be. But neither was you grabbing my ax."

"You're shit at explaining rules, then, I saw an opportunity and took it."

He chuckled, then sighed, "That's not what I mean, not exactly."

"Then what do you mean?" I asked, turning around to face his back. A bandage was wrapped around his exposed midsection, I could see the dark blood that stopped just below the last, pristine white wrap. Had I done that? If I had, good job me. He didn't answer my inquiry, so I continued to speak, "I like this whole being alive thing, but why am I here?"

Again, he didn't answer me.

"Am I a prisoner?"

"Something like that," he finally sighed, "You're accompanying us until I have answers, then I will decide what to do with you."

"Answers to what?" I shuddered at the last part of his aspect, not mentioning it.

He stood abruptly and walked to where I was, in front of where I sat. I flinched slightly, whatever fire I had in my heart the previous night had dissipated, this man was fucking terrifying.

"Do not lie to me," he said, "Who are you?"

I opened and closed my mouth, "My name is Margo, uh, Margaret Bishop. I, uh, worked at a bookstore?" He scowled. 

"I don't know what you want," I said defensively, honestly, and scooted away from him. 

"I found your brother." He mentioned. 

I stopped and looked up at him, he stared back without wavering, "Do not worry, I did not harm him. Well, I didn't kill him. He's alive. But," he pointed at me, "He couldn't activate the ax. Tell me why."

"What?" I said loudly, "I don't know what you're talking about!"

"How did you do it!?" He yelled back, his voice rising. Fear crept into my spine, tears pricked my eyes. I scooted all the way to the headboard, wanting nothing more than to flee. He blocked the exit. The Hell Knight ducked back down and chattered quietly, as if in agreement.

Impatiently, the man turned and picked something up near the entrance. He turned back to me, came too close, and brandished his ax. It crackled to life, the teeth parting, the mouth opening, red energy pushed out and cut into the air, twin blades on either side. Red electricity danced on his skin.

"How did you activate it!?" He screamed louder. 

"I don't know!" I cried back, falling in on myself, tears Began to stream down my face. I cradled my head and hid in my knees that were tightly pressed to my chest. I spoke quieter, desperately, "I don't know." Sobs wracked my body, the fear all-consuming. The man didn't move, the ax wavered as it was closed, deactivated. He didn't say anything for a long time, he just watched me cry and shake. 

"I'm…" he trailed off as if he was about to apologize again, "I have work to do. Do not leave the tent." I peaked at him to see he was looking at his Hell Knight, "Do not leave her. Do not fall asleep."

It chittered quietly, whining afterward. Curtly, he turned and left. As soon as he was done, I crumpled and cried harder, curling up deep in the blanket, pulling them over my head. The next time I had come out of it, there was another pebble on the bed.

After some time, the demon appeared again, clattered something on the table near the bed, and left. I glanced out and saw a tray of food. Sitting up, I pulled it onto my lap, looking at the contents. I didn't recognize the odd vegetables, they were green and yellow, it looked a bit like snap peas. I tasted one, and it was an odd blend of asparagus, corn, and something else I couldn't place. The taste was rich though, and I quickly devoured them. There was a small loaf of bread, glistening with what I assumed was butter, but it tasted like honey. Then, a chunk of some kind of meat. The outside was tough and it was a dark pink color. I wondered if it was undercooked, or the animal was that color naturally. Regardless, it made me nervous. I looked over to see the Hell Knight staring at it, salivating. I hesitated but offered the tray and meat to it. Quickly, so fast I yelped, it snatched it up and started tearing into it briefly, before slowing down to gnaw on it, eyes closing as it did. 

More time passed, I stood and walked around the small room, finding a chest pushed under the bedside table. Odd symbols were branded in the wood, black metal reinforced it. I slowly touched it, the dark wood was smooth to the touch, the metal felt oddly warm against my palms. 

"Get away from that."

I gasped and stood, smacking my head on the table as I did. Cursing, I turned to see the man had returned, he walked over to the stand and began pulling on his armor, fresh bandages around his midsection. 

"How long do I have to be here?" I asked and received no response.    
He abruptly turned, "Tell me about your family."

I blinked, "That's a little forward, Don't you think?" 

He groaned in annoyance, "Tell me."

"Tell me about the box."

"No," he said with finality. 

"Okay, then tell me about the Hell Knight." At the mention of its name, it chattered in the corner. 

The demon frowned, "That? That's the answer you want?"

"Maybe your name?"

He sighed, "My name is Asmond. That is my Hell Knight."

I waited for him to continue, he didn't.

"He acts like a dog," I said in amusement.

"He's not supposed too," Asmond sighed. 

"He gave me pebbles."

He turned, then, "What?" 

I nodded, fishing them out to show them to him. He made a move to grab one, and I instinctually slapped his hand away and pulled them close to my chest, "No, these are mine."

"I don't," he sighed, "I don't want your pebbles."

"I think you're mad," I mused, a playful tone in my voice.

"What?" He repeated, tilting his chin down to look at me in confusion.

"Because you don't have any pebbles and I do."

He smacked a hand against his face and turned away briefly before turning back around, "I'm really not. It's just odd behavior, that is all."

"For a Hell Knight," I pushed, knowing I was getting somewhere, "What is usual behavior?"

He mulled on the idea, a wicked look creeping into his red eyes, "Violent. Criminal. Bastardly. I've seen what these beasts do. We use Hell Knights for control in the Pit. Ripping apart humans like they're nothing, feasting on the living, raping-"

"Okay," I cut him off, "What does he do?" The only bastard I saw here was him, but I did not forget the horror I had seen the Hell Knight partake in.

"He does what he's told, and not much else." Asmond paused, regarding the creature, "He likes rocks, I guess. Maybe he collected them in his past life."

"Only what he’s told? He attacked Don.” Asmond eyed me down, sliding his gaze to the Hell Knight, “That wound, did this Don do that?”   
I turned and noticed the massive scar on the creature's shoulder, it was sunken in on some parts, an angry red color. It had, however, shown incredible signs of healing. Nervously, I nodded.    
The grey-skinned demon shook his head, “My Knight was defending himself then. He is a beast, but it is still kill or be killed in his life.” I nodded in understanding, Don did try to kill him first. A dog would react in the same way. I couldn't help but feel sad then. Sad Don was gone, yes. But sad that the Hell Knight had shown us no violence, but was attacked anyways. I looked back at Asmond, “You mentioned a past life?”

He paused, sighed once, and moved to sit on the bed, I made room and scooted away, brushing against the headboard. Nervous for him to be so close after his earlier outburst. The anger seemed to be gone now, but he still radiated danger.

"Some demons aren't born traditionally, some are created. Some are made examples of. Hell Knights are the product of humans changed by hell energy, Argent energy. They're the soldiers of the dark realm, we use them as enforcers, against lesser demons and humans alike. They serve us well and do as they're told. But that one," he pointed at the one on the floor, "Lacks the innate brutality, but still does as he's told. When he doesn't, he plays with rocks. Shows his intelligence I guess."

I thought to ask him how he had come to be but decided against it, perhaps it was a touchy subject.

"How old is he?" I asked instead.

"I don't know how old he was when he turned, but he's been a Hell Knight for about two and a half years, I believe. I've had him since."

I nodded, looking at him, "Have you named him?"

He sputtered, "No, why would I do that?" 

I frowned, "He's like a puppy, you can't just not name a puppy."

"That," Asmond raised his voice slightly, "Is not a puppy."

"I think I'll name him for you, then." I paused for a while, and then said simply, with as much authority as I could, "Pebbles."

"What?"

I smiled, looking at the Hell Knight, "Do you like that name? Pebbles?" It squealed happily. Chittering when it was done.

"That's hardly a fitting name!" Asmond said, rolling his eyes, "It should be something better. Bone Smasher. The Torrenter. Mover of Mountains!"

"Well you had two and a half years to do that, you lost your chance. I think he likes Pebbles, anyway."

Hw sighed and waved me off, "These petty matters do not matter to me, I have business." He stood then and began his way out. 

"Hold on!" I called. He paused and turned, waiting for me to continue. 

"I didn't answer your question," I said quietly. The truth was, despite how scary he was, I was afraid to be alone. I had seen only carnage and death from demons. Sure, Asmond punched me in the face after declaring it was my time to die and yelled at me earlier, technically threatened me with the ax. But, he was the closest to humanity I had ever seen from demons.

Asmond turned back around and sat on the bed. Whatever business wasn't that important apparently. Slightly scooting away from the man, I closed my eyes, recalling the memories I had tried so hard to forget.

"It's nothing special," I told him. He didn't reply, his gaze settling on my own, waiting for me to begin. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you!! I'm so happy to be pushing it this book, it's been on my mind for quite a while. Please leave a comment if you can, they boost my morality a bunch!  
> I also figured out how to do italics, yay!


	6. Emotional Blunder

"How much do I tell you?" I asked, unsure of myself. 

"Everything you can, your family history, I suppose."

I took a deep breath, "I was born twenty-two years ago, four years after my brother, Jason. I was three when she, my mom, married Jason's dad, who was seven at the time. Dad always wanted a little girl, mom loved Jason as her own. I never knew my real dad, but my mom would tell my stories in secret about him. He was like nothing she'd seen, he'd tell her grand stories of adventure, impossible things. The way she described him, it was a different kind of feeling, I suppose. I don't know, I can't remember a lot, she passed away when I was fourteen."

Asmond nodded, " _ Aemsh _ , I'm sorry. Can you tell me more about your father, his name? What he looked like?" 

I paused, trying to recall what I could remember, "His name was weird, I could never pronounce it like mom could. I assumed he was from another country."

Asmond laughed, standing, "Was it Arshkur?" I frowned at him, "Maybe. Mom told me he had steel eyes and black hair. And a thick scar on his neck. Circular scars were on the side that showed where it had been stitched."

Asmond rose and walked to the other side of the bed, kneeling down to retrieve that mysterious box. I turned away, looked at Pebbles. He was asleep again. I heard the lid slam shut, "This is him, I'm sure of it. I had my suspicions, but it's clear now." He handed me a yellowed, thick paper. It looked positively ancient, the alien inscriptions had faded significantly, but the picture remained strong. It was an ink drawing of a man, the more I stared, the more I understood. It was just his bust, I could see now that we had the same jawline, the same almond-shaped eyes. I frowned, "What does the paper say?"

Asmond hesitated, "He was a wanted man, the reward for his head was grand, Arshkur was wanted for treason. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you."

I shook my head, "This man is a stranger to me. My real father is somewhere else now. But, was he a bad man then?"

Asmond lowered his head slightly, "No, I wouldn't say he was. He was loyal to the wrong people, had extreme ideas and values. When we came for him, he was gone, a dying portal showing how he fled. We had the idea that he went to Earth, but we never searched, we couldn't at the time. But yes, he was a good man."

"Thank you, Asmond," I said honestly. 

"Please," he urged, "Continue, tell me about your mother." I smiled, "Did you not get the information you needed?" He nodded, "Yes. I did."

I briefly looked away, my heart fluttering at the slightest genuine interest in what I had to say. I had almost forgotten that this man was a demon, that he had kidnapped me.

"My mother was a good woman, full of smiles and gold. Jason and I hated each other at first and disliked the other parent. I hadn't met my blood father, hadn't experienced it yet. Jason's dad treated me like his own, we grew close. By proxy, I grew close to Jason, too. Our dad was always adamant that we knew how to defend ourselves. He taught us how to hunt animals, forage plants, and how to use a knife and gun alike."

Asmond interrupted me, talking in a good-humored manner, "Where were those skills yesterday?"

I laughed and looked away, "My dad would curse me from one side of the woods to the other if he saw how I reacted. Fear is a horrible thing, I suppose, killing the senses. That's why it's easier to be the predator."

He nodded and I continued, "Jason never went to college. I wanted to, but we couldn't afford it right away. My plan was to save money until I could go. I worked at a bookstore. I wanted to write books myself, stories. Or go out in the wilderness, around the world, and take notes on plants and animals. A biologist maybe, who writes scientific papers."

"What is a, eh,  _ bia-log-ist _ ?"

I giggled, this must be how it was when people tried to speak their own language, "It's a scientist who studies animals, plants, or the ecosystem."

He thought about it for a moment, "I see, Bialogist." 

"Are there people who do that on your," I hesitated, "World?"

"I think so, the Priests take interest in this sort of thing, so it wouldn't surprise me if there were appointed positions. I suppose I study the best way to take down animals of our world." In the distance, I heard a sound, quiet, I couldn't place it right away. 

Asmond continued, "Our world is not quite so different from your own, it's just more dangerous. And red. Well, theirs is."

"Who?"

"The demons," he said, nodding to the opening. I paused, confused, "Are you… not a demon?" 

Asmond sighed and touched his forehead, brushing one of his horns, "Yes, I am. But I'm…" he stopped suddenly and grunted, signaling the end to this conversation. 

I heard the sound again, it sounded orchestral in nature, like someone was playing music outside. 

"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it, but can I ask you one more question?" He gave me a side glance and I quickly added, "It's not about you."

Reluctantly, he nodded. 

"What did you do to Jason? You said you found him, and he couldn't activate the ax."

"Oh," he said, "Nothing too bad. He tried to fight me originally, I had to, uh, persuade him to stop, to pick up the ax. He couldn't do it, now I know why. But I got frustrated and mad when he tried to hit me with it anyways. I grabbed it while he still held it, and popped it back into his face. He'll have a nasty bruise and he went down, but he'll be okay."

I nodded, "That sounds like him. One more question?"

"You're pushing your luck," he muttered in a low voice. 

"Humor me," I begged. 

He finally replenished and looked at me, "What."

My gaze slipped from his eyes to his covered mouth, "Why do you keep the mouth-piece on. Is it like a Darth Vader type thing?" 

"I don't know who that is." 

I laughed, "He's a cultural figure, you could say, a powerful warrior." 

He nodded, perplexed, "Yes. Darth Vader, you will have to tell me his story." 

I agreed, but only if he told me. 

"It's just another piece of armor. I don't take it off often because," he looked at me, his eyes briefly showing vulnerability before hardening again, "I like it." I knew that wasn't it, but didn't press. 

"Could you take it off now?" I knew I was pushing my luck big-time, but my curiosity was strong. He hesitated, glancing at the door, then to the sleeping Hell Knight. He paused and didn't move for a moment, and then he was suddenly undoing the straps and the metal clasp. He held it in place for a moment and then brought it down. Seeing his full face, I understood why he wouldn't want to show it all the time. Despite looking like everything else out there. His face was heavily scared, more black veins wrapped around his upper neck, and around his jaw. His mouth was mostly there, he still had lips (albeit scared and ripped in one place). His teeth, I could see, resembled a human with large, sharp canines. Without thinking I reached up and touched his cheek, I could feel the bone underneath, but the flesh was still there. He grabbed my own hand in his, and held it for a second, against his cheek, squeezing my hand.

A sound screamed through the camp, a horrible trumpet from hell that had signaled the beginning of the end. I seized, eyes widening, tears already welling. Abruptly, I pulled my hand back and stood on shaky legs. 

"We, I-I have to… W-we.. leave." Asmond shook his head, but I had backed up, images from that day flashing through my mind. All of the gore. The screaming. The impossible height of those beasts. The deafening trumpet. 

"No!" I cried, the first tears starting to fall down my cheeks. 

I turned and raced for the door, but Asmond had an arm around me before I made it two steps. 

"It's okay," he tried to say. I was beating against his chest, having enough sense to barely avoid the metal, "No, you don't understand!"

"Yes, I do."

I was being silly, of course he knew. All the same, I cried and fought. Patiently, he held me. And then, after I had stopped fighting and was now mostly crying, he gently guided me back to the bed. He sat me down slowly, gently urging me to lay down. 

"He's not going to hurt you," Asmond cooed. As soon as he stood I was jittering again, trying to stand up and run. He sighed, "I'll stay with you, will that make you feel better?"

"No!" I half-yelled, not really meaning it, but not in my right mind either. 

"I'll stay anyway," with one hand, he undid the straps of his armor, letting them clunk to the ground. When he couldn't keep me down long enough to get to the other side of the bed, he simply scooted me over. He sat with his back against the headboard board and his legs stretched on the bed. Slowly, as carefully as he could, he pulled me close. I shook my head and tried to push him away, even at my fullest strength I wouldn't have succeeded. He began to hum quietly and gently rock me, like a mother would to her babe. I could only cry and feebly hit at him. After several moments, I stopped, and let him hold me. Outside, there was one more trumpet and I screamed, turning to hide my face in Asmonds chest. He pulled the blanket up protectively, pulling it up over my head. I recalled seeing Jason do this to wounded animals before he finished them off properly, the darkness calmed them down. It certainly worked on me, I eventually relaxed in his arms. Pebbles had woken up too, apparently, whining at the noise. He must not have liked it either. Asmond sighed slightly, running a hand through my hair, he lingered on the gentle curls at the end, before pulling softly and letting go, making them spring back up. 

" _ Sirem  _ Ahgreal," a rough voice muttered from outside, "The Tyrant wants to speak with you." I flinched and grew restless again, Asmond tightened his arms around me.

"Tell him he's going to have to wait," He said back, impatience laced in his voice. 

"But-"

"I'm busy," he snapped, "Tell Nemir to deal with it, he shouldn't be far."

"Yes,  _ sirem,  _ I will get him." The creature walked away. Asmond continued humming. I listened to the deep rumble of his chest, his heartbeat beat rhythmically with it. That, combined with my exhaustion from crying, lulled me to sleep. 

"Where's the girl?" I woke to the sound of the unknown voice that was arguing from behind the tent entrance, who had touched my face with cold hands. I opened my eyes, greeted by the same darkness the blanket still provided. 

"She's here," Asmond said, sounding tired himself. He shifted the blanket just enough to show the top of my head before returning it. I became acutely aware that I was in his lap, and wanted nothing more than to move. Focus, Margo, this is still a blood-thirsty monster. Even he had shown such gentleness, such intrigue in what I wanted to say. I shook my head softly, he was searching for answers for his own gain.

"This is why you were busy?" The other one snapped. 

"Hush, Nemir. She had a bad reaction to the Tyrant, I had to calm her before anything bad could happen."

"Yeah, I'm sure. You couldn't put your Knight to that task? It wouldn't be much different from you, anyways." 

Ouch. 

I felt Asmond tense slightly, a snarl rising in his chest and dying in his throat. 

Nemir continued, "I dealt with the Tyrant. He brought us good news, Asmond'iah. He's seen the Slayer and he's still nearby." Asmond tenses further, "Shit. Send the signal to the Priests, send our troops to investigate.”

"What about you?"

He paused, "I'll be out there in a moment, I have to put my armor on and collect my things. 

"Scandalous," Nemir clicked his tongue, "Laying naked with the prisoner?"

"I'm not- Get out." 

The man laughed and exited, saying other things in his native tongue that I couldn't understand. Asmond seethed more, shuffling where he sat. 

He sighed, "Okay,  _ sihge _ , I have to go now."

"What's going on?" I asked tentatively, afraid of what was happening.

"We're checking out the area, and then decide what to do until then. The Hell Knight-"

"Pebbles."

"...The Hell Knight will stay here with you, he won't hurt you. But you know that now. If anything happens, stay with him, he'll keep you safe until I return."

I nodded and slid off of his lap, blushing. I chalked it up to me being deliriously scared and him not wanting me to run off. Yes, that was it. I stayed under the covers, sinking back in and listening to the sound of metal against metal as he put his armor on. I frowned when he clasped the mouth-piece back over his ragged lips.

"I'll be back,” he exited and started yelling orders, others replied. After twenty minutes, the camp was still. Slowly, I stood up and made my way for the canvas door. I pulled it back and peered out, it was utterly silent, empty. Slowly, I stepped out. Pebbles chittered and followed. 

"It's okay, Pebbles, I just want to look around, come with me, it's okay."   
That wasn’t entirely true, I wanted to escape more than anything. But couldn’t with the hell Knight at my side. Padding softly, he stood at my side, a good three feet over my height. The fire was merely a smoldering pile now. I hadn't realized, but the sun had risen, and cast long shadows in the camp. More tents stood around, some had tables with weapons. I crept around quietly, noting which tent I came from. 

"What are you doing, Little Mouse?" The thickly accented voice startled me, it quaked threw my core. I gasped and spun, not seeing anything outright. I turned, again and again, not seeing anyone. A deep laugh vibrated the air. Slowly, I turned the corner of a tent and almost screamed. Sitting down, against a comically small tree, was the Bulls-Eye demon, the Tyrant. 

"Did you escape? Do I need to put you back?" His voice was low, not much louder than my own. 

"N-no," I gasped, "I'm… I'm, uh…" I tensed and prepared to run, panic welling in my chest, tears pricking my eyes. 

He laughed, a loud sound that sounded more like a throaty snarl, "It is okay, Little Mouse, I know who you are. Nemir told me about you. And you smell of Asmond’iah. Why are you alone?"

I blushed and looked around in confusion. After a few more confused seconds, I saw Pebbles behind a tent, staring from me to the Tyrant. I turned back, "I'm not alone, the Hell Knight is here with me."

He nodded, his horns waving. I could see that one had been snapped off, dried blood caked it profusely. Now that I looked at him, he was in an awful state. Muscle and bone were exposed, meat hung down in chunks held by strings. His blood made him appear red-skinned instead of tan.

"What happened to you?" I asked, fear ebbing away slowly. This creature was so… big. How could anything do this much damage to a seemingly unstoppable force? He didn’t seem violent before me now, he spoke softly, and appeared to heed me no harm.

"Ah," he mused, "The Slayer is an indomitable foe. I wouldn't wish for my greatest enemies to come across a monster like him."

Dread lurched in my chest, what could be worse than this thing?

"Do you, um, need anything?" 

The Tyrant snorted, but saw I was serious, "The one thing of humans that has always surprised me, is their empathy. I'm thirsty, Little Mouse."

"What can I do?" 

"Bring me water first, and we'll go from there." 

After wandering around the camp, I found a bucket and a nearby stream of moving water. Pebbles helped me carry it back, four trips in all to satiate the massive being. He asked then if I would help him clean his wounds. I frowned, "I don't know how I can help you."

He looked down at his body, "Sure you can, more water and a rag, scrub the grime out. I'll get the big spots ." I stared at him, unsure. 

"Please." He added softly.

I caved and Pebbles went for water while I searched for anything that could be a rag. The small spots, evidently, were still the size of my fist and bigger. But, I helped him the best I could, carefully rubbing at the skin with a cloth I had found on the ground. He recounted the epic fight as I did, explained how the Slayer took him by surprise, and he almost had the Slayer dead but got hit with the tendrils of a really big gun. I listened and nodded along, trying not to pay attention to the sound of him straight up ripping off the meat chunks that hung off of him. He spoke low and kind to me, he moved slowly when he put a new limb in front of me to clean.

“Okay, Little Mouse,” He finally said, “I see Asmond’iha and his men returning. Return to your bed, I will not tell him you left it. I will remember your kindness.”  
Quietly, I thanked him, and Pebbles and I quietly slunk back to the tent. I crawled back onto the bed, and Pebbles returned to his place on the floor. I heard the noise of the creatures slinking back and after a moment, Asmond stuck his head in. The canvas caught on his large horn and flittered slightly.   
“Did you find him?” I asked as casually as I could. Asmond narrowed his eyes and came in, “No,” was all he said. He stood there for a while, staring me down. Then, slowly, he pointed to my shirt. I looked down and cursed myself, dark drops of blood had splattered onto it, barely noticeable.   
“That’s not yours.”  
I frowned and looked up to him, “I-I, uh.”  
“You reek of Tyrant.”   
What the hell was up with these demons and smell? Asmond didn’t even have a nose! He came in farther, coming close to the edge of the bed, “Did he come in here?”  
“The Tyrant? Did the massive behemoth come into this tent?” I said back plainly, hinting at sarcasm. He scowled, “You went out then.”  
“You never said I couldn’t!” I defended myself.  
“It was implied!” He snarled back, he grabbed my shirt, pulled me close, and began grabbing at my arms. He turned them, inspecting the skin.  
“Stop that,” I said, tugging away from his grasp. His grip was iron, he didn’t stop as he asked, “Did it hurt you?”  
“No,” I quickly told him, “I brought him water, and helped clean some of his gashes.”  
Asmond glared into my eyes. I stared back, afraid and desperate, “Please, Asmond, I’m telling the truth.” I hesitated and then added, “I’m sorry I left the tent, I just wanted to stretch my legs.” And scope out the area, but I didn’t tell him that part.   
Finally, he let me go, “You are a weird human. You’ve made friends with two demons, a Tyrant, no less. You should be happy to still be in one piece.” I nodded, apologizing again. He frowned, “Get up, you need to be reminded about your current situation.” 

Whatever kind being that had spoken to me earlier was gone, there was only coldness and danger in his voice now. I was swiftly reminded that this man was a demon and that I had not been talking to an old friend. I was in danger still and had to escape the second I could.   
“Get up!” He snarled louder, grabbing my wrist and pulling me out of bed. I yelped and followed, struggling to keep up as he dragged me from the tent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .:Language Guide:.
> 
> Aemsh - I'm sorry
> 
> Thank you so much for your continued support! Originally, the Slayer was supposed to show up at the end of the chapter, and the Tyrant would have died. I, however, like the Tyrant and don't want to off him just yet. Besides, I have better plans for the Doom Slayer in future chapters!


	7. Vile things, Twisted Sisters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Forged from Hellfire, the Archvile is feared among lesser demons for its innate ability to channel and manipulate the unholy powers of Hell magic. Descended from the eldest race of demons... [its] long held a place within the ruling caste of high-born demon lords. Possessing superior intellect among the demon ranks, the Archvile's psychomancy powers make it a natural-born ruler of the savage and primitive beasts of Hell, capable of bending weak-minded underlings to serve its will."  
>  -ARC entry

“Where are we going?” I gasped, managing to barely right myself as I was still being pulled effortlessly.   
“Do not speak,” He replied curtly. I opened my mouth to protest but promptly fell silent as we breached through the tent, the warm air beat against my cheeks as the canvas curtains billowed behind me. The creatures I saw around the camp made me gasp and shrink into Asmonds’ side (simply because I had nowhere else to go, of course). Beings I couldn’t fully comprehend littered the area. Some were human-like, some were beastly and monstrous. Some I recognized, some I had never seen before. I saw the two snake-like demons I had seen earlier curled together around the fire, one was laying down, and one was resting in on her elbows. They seemed almost serene, like resting lions.

A lot of the beings bore horrendous wounds that no mortal body could endure. Ribs and spinal columns were exposed, entrails hung across laps casually. Occasionally, one would tuck them back into the body cavity, muttering half-heartedly in that other language. Some turned and glowered at me with blazing eyes, some hollered when they saw my quaking form. Asmond paused and for a second, I thought he would toss me to the apparent savages. One particularly ghastly one licked its lips with a blackened tongue, eyeing my legs hungrily. In what manner, I did not know, which scared me even more. Asmond spoke to a lanky demon with blue-toned skin and black eyes. They chatted for a moment, and then the other one pointed across the camp.   
“Into the trees, a clearing,” He said with a thick accent.   
Promptly, Asmond turned towards where he had pointed and continued to drag me. Soon enough, we were in the forest, the sounds of the camp were too far to hear. Then, I began to panic, pulling against his grip, softly at first.   
“Asmond,” I pleaded, “I-I don’t know what I did wrong, please, Asmond.”  
When he didn’t speak, nor pause, nor stop, I pulled harder, digging my heels into the ground, beating into his side. His skin was cold, unyielding, as was he himself. What I did did nothing was cause me to falter and fall, only then did he pause to pull me back up. Eventually, we broke through the tree line, into a clearing much smaller than the one the camp was set up in. He walked to the center and paused, finally releasing my wrist.   
“Why are you here, Asmond.”   
I shook at the voice that boomed out from the clearing, not seeing who it belonged to. It was deep, a snarl that danced on the wind. It wasn’t spoken as a question, either, it almost seemed to be a thinly veiled threat.   
“Why do you bring a human? There have not been sacrifice for some time.”   
“No, not a sacrifice,” He replied gruffly, eyeing where I stood, “I don’t want her killed, or harmed.” Gee, thanks Asmond, real nice of you to look out for me there.   
“Then why are you here, Asmond’dia?”  
“Remind her who we are,” He turned, heavy footsteps sealed my fate as he returned to the way we came. I tensed, not knowing what to do, but terrified beyond reason. Asmond paused and turned, “Do not run, do not fight him,” was all he said to me. He spoke softly, the hint of care had crept back out from his covered lips. He turned fully then, holding his arms out in a sign of challenge, “ _Dos’nae zouc shire coulzsh,_ Erak’thile, she is mine.”   
A laugh echoed throughout the quiet, ending when Asmond finally left the clearing.   
I stood in the center, looking around with wide eyes, not seeing anything. Before I could even consider what Asmond had said, what he had meant, a loud _whoosh_ came from behind me, heat slammed against my back. I gasped and spun around, a wall of fire, thirteen feet high, bordered the edge of the clearing, and circled to encapsulate all of it. I was surrounded by a massive wall of flames, I cried and screamed for what I was witnessing, unable to calm myself. Fire, I knew, should never act in such a way, this was the work of ungodly horrors.   
“Margaret Bishop,” the deep voice curled behind me like smoke. I turned, shaking. A figure walked through the fire, entering the untouched clearing. It was at least nine feet tall, almost four, maybe five, feet taller than I was. Its skin was a tan-ish grey color. At the joints, it appeared segmented like an insect. Chitin like armor covered it, small, thick spikes dotted across its arms. The torso was short, and sunken in weirdly, the ribcage jutted out with that same chitinous armor. A bone-like covering was on its shoulders and chest, spiked on each of its shoulders. The arms were long, extending well to the knees, the hands were large, fingers ending in blackened claws. The face was alien-like with a bulbous, bald head. The jaw had interlocking teeth, and the eyes were small and pupil-less. It’s chin jutted slightly into two spikes. The facial features seemed to have grown into a permanent snarl, which it continued to scowl, further disfiguring its face.   
“I address you, human.”  
My mouth opened and closed uselessly, not a single word came to mind. He stalked closer, unfazed by my silence, he continued to speak, “I see you, Margaret Bishop, human of Earth. I see what you want, I see what you need. Of all, I see what you are. Margaret Bishop, daughter of the Traitor. Spawn of the unholy alliance, Sister of the Beast.”   
“I-I don’t understand,” I managed to mutter, smoke caressed my face as I did.  
“Then speak, human.”  
“Who is the Beast? What do you mean by Sister?”  
The creature snorted, “Culture is unknown to you, human. The Beast is the Beast, as I am Erak’thile, as you are Margaret Bishop. You are not a sister of blood, you will never be a sister of blood, as he never should have been either. As he isn’t. Your bloodline is weak by the Scourge and the Traitor, you should not be here. You should not exist, Bastard of Earth.”  
“What are you?” I boldly asked. Finding my voice with each passing second. The creature was imposing, absolute, his space swallowed the air and spewed forth only hatred.   
“I am Erak’thile, Father of the Brine, Brother of the Marauders. Your scourge have known of my kind for century, for we dance across the plane of existence, we are the Boogyman of your helpless realm. Feeble human brain cannot comprehend the power we possess. We show, you break, you fall, we rise. Even now, I will break you, and you will fall. For you cannot.”  
As he ended his speech, the fire roared higher, the bottoms turning a deep shade of blue, that rose to a creeping green among the orange. I had to yell to be heard above the relentless rage of the flames, “Cannot what?”  
The creature shook his head, “You cannot.” I didn’t say anything else, feeling I could understand, but not quite grasping it fully, perhaps that is what he meant. He continued, sweeping his arms high in a motion of grandeur, “Why did he bring you to me? If not of blood? If not of body?” He stared expectantly, waiting for an answer.  
I began to shake despite the heat, “I-I don’t know.”  
“Of mind,” he concluded, “I will show you what he cannot, I will show you the truth, I will show you the hatred.”   
On steady feet, he advanced onto me. I screamed, yelling for him to stay away from me. Eventually, I was forced to stop, unable to get closer to the flames without them greedily reaching to caress my skin. The flames followed him as he came closer, making it impossible for me to dodge around him. It wouldn’t help, seeing as the fire bent to his will, I couldn’t evade him forever. Erak’thile was relentless, his clawed hand reached out. I panicked and backed up, shouting out in pain as my arm was thrust into the flame, consumed for a mere second.  
“Foolish human!” He yelled, enclosing his claws around my middle, jerking me forwards and back into the center. I screamed and collided into the ground, soot puffed up into my nose and mouth. I coughed hard and pulled my now injured arm close to my body. The smell of burned meat mixed with the smell of burned everything, I gagged at it, tears pricking my eyes. The pain stole my voice, I could only gasp and wail. I curled into myself, willing for what this creature had in mind to be over swiftly. The ground shook slightly as it dropped beside me, sitting cross-legged, with its arms resting on its knees. He stayed like this for a moment before pressing his oversized palm into my exposed forehead, I noticed each hand only had three cruel fingers. A sharp pain lanced through my head, I screamed and it increased, and then I didn’t feel anything. 

My vision blacked despite my eyes being wide open, all sounds now fell on deaf ears.

One after another, images flashed like a strobe light. Horrible acts, people being ripped apart, animals slaughtered ruthlessly. Men, women, and children, strung up and hung like decorations from ceilings made of dirty black stone. I screamed and suddenly I was joined by a chorus of others. A lake of fire. Cages were attached to a conveyer belt on a ceiling, every space was filled with a writhing, screaming human. Each one was carted off to an unknown space. A massive brain, within a massive room. Cylinders opened to reveal horrible eyes that locked onto my own. somewhere, I heard another scream, not knowing if it was me again. And then I was shown Asmond, at the forefront of a battle. His blade cut through men clad in army uniforms, human men. Bullets and machine fire blasted from massive guns, but he simply kept going. There was screaming, I saw men turning against their own, tearing at them with inhuman strength, possessed by some unseen foe. The vision turned, sweeping behind whoever’s eyes I was looking through. I was shown an endless sea of demons. Distantly, trumpets sounded. The sky was red, clouds rolled and crashed, lightning rained down with something else, fire maybe. The scene changed again, I was in a room, it looked like a destroyed store. On the ground, a woman cowered, sobbing and pleading. A familiar ax fell upon her, severing her head from her body. Compared to the previous carnage, this execution seemed merciful.  
On and on, the scenes changed, I was buried in horrible things, forever unable to look away. By this point, I deduced that I was in fact witnessing these through the eyes of Erak’thile, for I could see his arms reach forth to cause terror, hands that appeared as my own, but not. And then, for the second time, everything went black, there were no sounds, no pain, nothing. Eventually, I managed to open my eyes, my ears started to ring, the assault of burning everything came back. I could hear quiet cracks as the ringing subsided, the sound of a dying flame My vision returned, and I could see the thick smoke rising from a blackened ground, the fire was gone, merely singed sparks remained. In the air, ashes danced and drifted down, softly settling on my still curled body like snow. The ashes were warm, comforting, the distant thrumming of pain returned to my arm.   
“It is done, human. It is time for you to leave.”  
Slowly, I raised my head. Despite the voice, I couldn’t see Erak’thile. Silently, I pulled myself to my feet, stumbling on numb legs and cradled my injured arm. I stepped out of the blackened circle and simply walked. I didn’t know where I was going, couldn’t remember the direction of the camp, not wanting to return anyway. I wasn’t exactly running away, I was just… walking, nowhere to go, nowhere to be. In a daze, I continued, thoughtlessly. I could still hear the screams in the back of my mind, I would never forget how real the visions had witnessed, the scene that had played out through my mind. Eventually, I heard heavy footsteps behind me. I turned, a Hell Knight stood a short distance away.   
_“Krrrr?”_ _  
_ Wordlessly, I turned back around and continued walking, Pebbles followed quietly. He wasn’t pursuing, he was simply here with me. I found some sort of comfort in that, knowing Pebbles wasn’t bad by default, somehow knowing and trusting that he wouldn’t hurt me. But, I couldn’t help but wonder, if Asmond had commanded it, would he?  
I didn’t dwell on this idea, instead I let my mind continue to wonder as I walked aimlessly. Wondering in mind and spirit. Occasionally, I would hear Pebbles occasionally chuff and grunt, coupled with his constant heavy foot-falls.   
Soon, I heard slithers and rattles near my left. I paused, but continued anyway. If it was a problem, Pebbles would handle it. Probably. Soon, a second slithering sound came from my right. This time I stopped, more annoyed than afraid. The two creatures made themselves known then, cutting forward from the thick bushes and blocking my current path. It was the two snake-like demons, unsurprisingly. The one Don had previously shot looked almost perfect now, her skin adorned a shiny scar, one big one like a crater, and much smaller ones where the buckshot had spread out. The second one bore her own battle scars.   
“ _Tex’ au boen, euman.”_ This one hissed out, I noticed she was actually different from her counterpart. Her skin was darker, a more red color than tan, and her thin horns curved up slightly at the ends. The facial structure was also slightly different, she had wider cheekbones and a broader jaw.   
“I don’t know what you’re saying,” I said back, feeling tired suddenly,   
“ _Tex’ au boen_!” She hissed louder, displaying for weird wrist blades. The other one spoke now, “ _Boen…_ back. Go back, _aush_.” Her speech was heavily accented, so thick I could barely understand. Regardless, I nodded, “Can you show me the way? I don’t exactly know where I am, I wasn't trying to run, either.”

Wordlessly, the redder skinned demon slithered to side my left, the other took my right, slightly ahead to lead. Pebbles followed quietly, seeming to keep his distance from the two snakes.   
For a while, we moved without speaking, only for the red one to start hissing in her wicked tongue, “ _Bouth une n’aethmo.”_ _  
_ “You… not daemon,” The other pitched in, not helpfully.   
“Okay,” I trailed off, “That’s, uh, fine with me. Not sure what you said though, honey.”  
“He… no keep.” The tan one hissed, repeating what the red one had said afterward.   
“Are you talking about Asmond?”  
In a flurry, the red one spun around and hissed so heavily, foul spit hit my cheeks, “ _Sirem Ahgreal.”_ _  
__“_ He no keep, _Sirem Ahgreal_ ” The other finished firmly.   
“I hope not,” I laughed despite the situation, “I’m okay with not being, uh, Sir-earm ah-greal’s pet.”  
“We,” was all she said. Pebbles chittered behind us, catching the tan ones attention, “No, we… are chosen. we. Not _euman,”_ Pebbles argued back, apparently, because the two woman-demons started hissing aggressively.   
“Woah, okay ladies,” I put my hands up, wincing when the hot flashes ran down the burns, “You can have Asmo-uhhh,” I caught their glare, “Siram Ohgreal. I’m good where I am, frankly.”  
“ _Franky?”_ _  
_“It’s another word for directly, it means I speak honestly.”  
“ _Franky,_ not you,” She concluded with a firm nod from her counterpart. Maybe they were sisters, now that I thought about it.  
“Yeah, yeah, not me. I get it,” A sly smile played on my lips then, “He is kinda hot, though.”  
“ _Hot?_ ” The red one repeated, seemingly confused.  
“Smoking,” I concluded with a grin, “Don’t you think?”

“He is prime male,” The tan one seemed to be getting the hang of speaking English the more she went on, “This is _hot?”_ I nodded in agreement, she nodded thoughtfully.   
The conversation lulled to silence as we continued through the forest. I recognized the charred clearing up ahead, I was about to say something when the red one bumped my hip and urged me to go around, giving it a wide berth of avoidance.   
“I don’t like him either,” I murmured and struggled to pronounce the name next, “Ear-ak thile is kinda a dick.”  
“Franky,” The red one hissed in agreement.

Pebbles chittered behind us as well. Apparently, Erak’thile had harassed these guys as well. But I wondered if it was how I had been treated, or if it was worse for them, seeing that they could handle much more than a mere _‘euman’_ could. My mind began to drift then, to the past and present. I had seen so much bad and evil from these creatures, seen it first hand, and heard worse second hand. I had witnessed the demons I chatted idly with kill my friends, they chatted idly back. Seen those horrible images Erak’thile shared. However, I couldn’t help but wonder, were we just casualties in war? Had we, as humans, not done the same thing to innocents overseas? What would this mean for the future, for myself, and for everyone? Perhaps I would have to dwell on this revelation at a future time, as we were nearing the camp.   
As soon as I was within the ground boundaries, the two sisters slinked off to do their own things, leaving me alone with Pebbles. That didn’t last, as a heavily scarred man with purple skin shouted, “Oi, ‘ell Knight, ‘elp me with these crates.” Obediently, Pebbles trotted off. All around the camp, creatures and, I suppose, people were bustling about. Tents were being dragged down, things were being put into boxes. I noticed, in the far corner, a few empty wagons made of black wood were stationed. I turned around, briefly wondering if this was my time to run. No, not with so many eyes, surely I wouldn’t make it very far. Instead, I began looking for the tent I woke up in, but it had apparently already been dismantled. With no other option, I began to wonder.   
“Little Mouse! Come over here.”  
I turned and found the Tyrant standing a few meters away, he was almost as tall as the trees, I didn’t know how I had missed him. Tentatively, I began walking over to him, noticing he looked drastically better than when I had first seen him. Carefully, I picked my way across to him, dodging between people and things as I went. I then positioned myself between the tree and the Tyrant.   
“Y-yeah?” I asked nervously.   
“Stay near me, Mouse, and you will not be trampled on by the commotion.”  
I looked him up and down, cocking an eyebrow, “Yeah, I’m sure it is the commotion that will trample me.”  
The creature laughed heartily, “You are witty, Small Thing. Keep that wit. You are hurt?”

I grazed my fingertips across the wound, “It doesn’t hurt so much now. You know, fire bad and all.” 

He nodded in agreement, “Yes, you will have to be tended to afterward, I will let Asmond know.”  
I thanked him sheepishly and glanced around, “What’s going on?”  
“Ah,” The Tyrant swept his arm out, I felt a rush of wind from above as he did, “We are moving camp, I do not know where exactly. Somewhere west, that is where the Beast is.”  
I nodded, “Why are you following him?”  
“The Beast must be conquered, it is the Khan’s will. We follow when we can, that is why Asmond is here, after all.”  
“He hunts the Beast, then? Is this his army?”  
“More of a calvary,” he corrected, “We are the search party that engages him briefly, holding him off until reinforcements come.”  
“Is he the bad guy?” I asked carefully.   
“Yes, he seeks to destroy what we have created. He follows the old ways, he follows the dead gods. But enough ancient lore, you have helped me. Will you help others?”  
“As best I can,” I admitted.  
“Perhaps, if you were like us, you would have been our healer. They are a rare breed, I do not remember what they call themselves, _Shamas_ , maybe. Perhaps, if you are reborn, you will be a _Shama._ ” I stared up at him in confusion and unease, “Reborn? What… what do you mean?”  
Before he could speak, a crash sounded from the far side of the camp, a howl followed. I spun in shock, from where I was, I could see Pebbles on the ground, curled to protect his head. Above him, a larger Hell Knight bore down on him, howling out in rage. He raised his clawed, hoof-like feet, and brought it down on Pebbles’ ribs, causing him to cry out again. I heard the Tyrant shout something, but before I could register, before I knew what I was doing, I was running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .:Language Guide:.
> 
> Dos’nae zouc shire coulzsh: Do not touch her body.  
> Tex’ au boen, euman: Time to go, human.  
> Aush: now.  
> Bouth une n’aethmo: You are not chosen.


	8. Tension

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "There are no entries available for the Helleque. Previously unseen on earth, the creatures remained elusive even to the UAC during expeditions to hell."
> 
> ^  
> aka, Doom had no demon that fits what I need, so I made my own.

I continued to run despite every fiber in my body screaming for me to stop. I dodged between demons, ducked under things being carried, hopped over boxes. Before I knew it, before I could prepare, I was in front of Pebbles with my arms spread in an action of protection.  
“Leave him alone!” I screamed at the other Hell Knight. My legs shook as I did, but anger was evident in my features, my voice carried strong. This one, this Hell Knight, was bigger than Pebbles, had broader shoulders, thicker muscles. Its skin was a sooty black, even darker scars adorned his body. Its’ head adorned brown shading that followed his jaw, which jutted forward in an underbite. Its small, coal-black eyes glared down at me with malice. It howled fully, spittle flying onto my cheeks, enraged that I would stop his assault.   
“No!” I howled back and screamed with my own call of challenge. Seemingly aghast, it stepped back and displayed its arms before thumping its chest with a fist. Its intention clear: Get out of my way. I stood steadfast in refusal, anger quelling the fear that threatened to ensnare my mind. Behind us, I heard Pebbles scuffling to stand, before he trodded off, steps heavy with purpose. Wrong way buddy, I definitely needed you against this beast.

Breakin my thoughts, the Hell Knight sneered and shook its bulky head as if saying  _ fine, have it your way _ . My way it did, as it brought down a massive fist to grab onto my shoulder. In one swift motion, I was thrown to the ground, face grinding into the dirt. I made a move to stand, but its fist wrapped around my wounded arm and twisted. This time, I screamed in pain. It continued until the bone popped out of the socket with a sickening grind. I screamed louder. In response, it planted its heavy foot onto my back, just in the middle of my spine. Slowly, he added pressure. The awful thing intended to crush the life out of me with leisure, ensuring I knew what was to come. Just as it became too great to handle, my scream was cut short, the air forced from my lungs. A violent pain erupted from the side of my chest, I was sure something was wrong. At best, a rib cracked. At worst, a rib broke entirely and punctured my lung. A metallic taste flooded my mouth and I couldn’t breathe anymore, my vision began to darken. Couldn’t think, couldn’t scream, my dying breath would be one of silence. 

Then, the weight was gone and I was left gasping for breath. I could hear it howl and scream, just as I had, in pain. Despite the pain, I heaved myself up onto my shoulders and flipped my body around. Pain flared in my chest once more, blood and spit drained past my lips.

The Hell Knight, I could now see, was on the ground, a red ax buried deep in its chest. Impeccable timing. Asmond stood over it, a valiant scene I welcomed. The creature howled back at him but no move to fight back. With one fluid motion, he ripped the ax out and brought it back down, a red light flashed as he did, further damaging the body of the Hell Knight. Blood cascaded momentarily into the air, but the red energy seemed to stop any more blood flow. With a yell, Asmond brought it down across its skull, the bone cracked and it stopped hollering. It didn’t stick deep, but I could see the damage clearly. 

Asmond ripped it out and stepped away, rage clear in his eyes. He yelled something then, but I wouldn’t have understood even if he did speak English, I was too far gone at the moment. The Hell Knight, now abandoned, dragged itself farther away from where Asmond was, and by default, where I was. After that, with such swiftness that I couldn’t keep up, or maybe it was my swimming vision, he was crouched down beside me.   
“I’m going to pick you up,” he warned. He moved slowly compared to his previous actions.   
“I can probably walk,” I wheezed with some effort. It was a lie of course, but hey, it was worth the try, even if it was only a thought. He didn’t reply and with the kind of gentleness I wouldn’t expect from a demon, he looped one arm under my legs, the other bracing my back, he heaved my body up. Ax momentarily abandoned, it seemed. He walked slowly to the nearest tent that hadn’t been torn down. He ushered out the occupants with a stern glare, glancing around. The tent was mostly empty, a few crates, and that was all. But it was somewhat private, at least, quiet enough for me to relax.   
Carefully, he laid me down so that I was laying on my stomach.. With slow movements, he moved my shirt to expose my back and started prodding. I winced occasionally and held back yelps. But he seemed satisfied and moved to my twisted arm, which was now laid next to me in an awkward manner. Slowly, he picked it up and turned, when I cried out, he stopped. Sighing, he laid it back down and placed both palms on the table.

“Is my spine broken?” I asked breathlessly, knowing it probably wasn’t since I could feel my legs still.   
“No, but I have to set your shoulder,” he paused, “It’s gonna hurt.”  
I laughed despite tears that pricked my eyes, “It can’t hurt more than it being popped out.”  
He hummed, “You’d be surprised, but you’re tough. I like that about you.” Before I could reply, he grabbed my arm and grunted. Quickly he pulled my arm forward and jerked it back, I felt it pop back into place. In surprise and pain, I screamed out and my head slammed against the wood. Briefly, everything went black. 

I opened my eyes and surged upwards, supporting my body weight on my elbows.   
“Welcome back,” Asmond chuckled, “I brought you some food while you were out.” I groaned, “What? I was out for like a second.”  
“It’s been two hours, actually.”  
I cursed and sat up, quicker than I expected. In fact, I couldn’t feel the pain, a dull warmth at best where I had been hurt.

“Woah, I feel great.” I gasped out, legs hanging off of the table. Asmond nodded, setting a bowl beside me. He no longer had his mouthpiece on, exposing his tattered lips and sharpened teeth. I smiled, not expecting a scary sight to be welcoming.   
“I put a salve on your back and arm. Speeds the healing process, helps to stop the pain. The bruises look really bad, though.”  
“What’s it made out of?” I asked, experimentally rolling my shoulders and feeling my sides.

Asmond grinned, “You don’t want to know.”  
“I’d prefer the pain over the salve?” I asked in disbelief. Asmond nodded and leaned against the table, “It does have a very specific flower in it. Some compounds in the petals, I’ll have to show you sometime. It’s breathtaking to behold. Oh, and we’re leaving in a few hours.”  
“Where are we going?” Asmond didn’t answer, but his attention turned fully to me. I shuffled under his uncomfortable stare, but he finally spoke after a moment, “Now that you’re feeling better. What the _fuck_ ,” he shouted that part, his attitude flipping completely, “Were you doing with that Hell Knight.”  
“The black one?” I dumbly asked.

“Yes!” Asmond yelled, “Let me get this through your thick human skull: Demons are NOT nice, stop trying to make friends with species designed to kill. I mean, what the fuck were you thinking!?”  
“First of all,” I stood up and maneuvered to stand in front of him, uneffectivly blocking him in, “That skull comment is rich coming from you. Second of all, I was trying to protect Pebbles.” I was not in the mood to be bitched at after almost dying. Asmond didn’t say anything at first, as if deciding how to approach what I said. Finally, he shook his head, “You’re a fucking idiot, that Hell Knight would have killed you if I wasn’t there. You’re lucky Pebbles came and got me, or you’d both be paste. And he did not need protecting from you. What did you expect, going against a goddamn Hell Knight?” 

“No one else would have done it, you certainly wouldn’t,” I countered, hoping what I said stung, “I knew what I was doing, I’ve seen how awful those things can be. But Pebbles needed help. And yeah, maybe I couldn’t have done anything, but at least I tried!” By now I was shouting, “And you, you piece of demonic shit, are an asshole. I don’t know what I could’ve done to deserve being taken to that… that _thing._ ” I was, of course, referencing the encounter I had with Erak’thile.  
“Don’t change the subject.”  
“No, YOU don’t change the subject!” I shouted and tapped his chest with my finger. His eyes glanced down at my hand and then back up to me, but I kept going, “I don’t know what the fuck your problem is, but you fucking kidnapped _me._ You’re the reason I’m here, so I’m _your_ problem. You can’t stick me in a room, and expect me to sit and stay like a dog! I’ve had enough of this bullshit, enough of these shenanigans with you and your horde. I mean, one moment you act like a decent person, and the next you act like a complete ass. I’m done playing these games, Asmond’dia.” I hoped saying his full name would emphasize my seriousness and would not make me sound like an angry mom.

His eyes narrowed and stood up to his full height. Despite him being between the table and myself, I realized I was the one trapped, merely by his stare. 

“Do not,” he spoke slowly, venom ebbing his voice, “Forget who you are talking to. I am not your husband to fight and mewl pathetically at.” He started coming close, chest uncomfortably close to mine, I backed up hesitantly. I feel like this interaction was inevitable but felt I probably should have chosen some better words.   
“I did not go through centuries of torment to be bitched at by a woman.”  
Oh, he did not go there. The fear that pricked my chest vanished and I was angry again. Before I could stop myself, I slapped him across the face, his head didn’t even turn. If anything, I sprained my wrist. A seethed like it was his fault and instead moved to punch him hard in the gut. Like before, I only succeeded in hurting myself. I knew how to hit, but I didn’t how to hit a demon.  
“You’re pathetic,” he spat, “I expected nothing less from a human, a woman at th-” Before he could finish his sentence, I brought my knee hard into his groin, where the coverings were only a thick fabric. This time, to my satisfaction, he doubled over and groaned in pain. 

I grinned triumphantly and was about to gloat when he sprung back up, planted both hands on my shoulders, and spun me around. Before I could even yell, the small of my back slammed against the edge of the table, both of his hands were on either side of my body and he leaned in dangerously close, but I defyingly met his eyes.  
“I,” He snarled, the low light glinting off of his teeth, “Have had enough of your shit.” 

I tensed underneath him, sensing a challenge, “Then do something about it. Coward.”   
In one quick motion, he grabbed my throat. It was a possessive move, a display of power, a warning to not move. He didn’t squeeze, but kept his grip firm, his warning clear. At first, as he leaned down, I thought he was going to headbutt me with his massive horns. But much to my surprise, and probably his as well, he slammed his lips into mine. Nothing about the kiss was gentle, it was practically all teeth. Further to my surprise, I kissed back, struggling to keep up with his movements. His canine caught my bottom lip and I tasted blood, but it only heightened the experience. Asmond pulled back and I barely had time to catch my breath before he came back for a second one. This one was slower, gentler, but just as fevered. This time, I found myself kissing back. 

Finally, I broke from the spell and pulled back, “H-hold on,” He left me no room to talk, taking advantage of my open mouth to swipe his tongue against mine. With some effort, I pushed him back slightly and turned my head away, avoiding his advances. He simply took the opportunity to target my neck.

“What the fuck,” I breathed with genuine shock, “Is going on?”  
“Too long,” He snarled between soft bites to my neck, “I have waited.”  
“I’ve been here for like two days,” I pointed out, “Also I’d like it you’d stop now.”  
“You’re lying,” He snickered, rising to meet my eyes again, “I can smell it.” My eyes widened slightly, “That’s super creepy,” But fuck, was he right. I didn’t want him to stop, not really. But I had to admit to myself, something about this felt wrong, taboo even. This had to stop, I was supposed to be planning a grand escape, right? I almost died today! I had to get out of here, I had to. But why was I still here then? Why hadn't I run when I had so many opportunities? Why did I pull Asmond closer? 

“You’re a really bad liar,” He continued, leaning in. This time, however, I met him halfway, wrapping one arm around his neck. The other hand reached up to tangle in hair that wasn’t there, instead brushing against thick horns. Asmond groaned in response. His hand then reached down to tug up my shirt, but he suddenly tensed and stopped.

Asmond pulled back once more, and something was different now, something I could see in his eyes. They flashed, seemed to glint with an ungodly shade of green. A low growl began in his throat and rolled through his teeth, his eyes met mine, narrowing.   
“A-Asmo-AH,” I cried out as he shoved me backward, his hand returned to my neck, and squeezed. Hard. I wheezed slightly and both hands flew up to grip his wrist. Asmond didn’t stop me, not that it would change the circumstanced, and used the leverage to pin me down to the table, my back strained uncomfortably against the wood. He sneered down and leaned in, and spoke in a voice that wasn’t entirely his. He mockingly asked, “What will you do now, human? You have no power here.” He drug his hand from my neck to my shoulder, claws dug into my skin, just enough to leave a mark, the slightest hint of blood present. 

“Asmond,” I spoke firmly, yet fear danced in my voice, “Stop.” As if in response, he leaned into the crook of my neck, his other hand grabbed onto my side, slipping under the edge of my shirt. There, he gripped my side hard, claws digging into my hip. Teeth scraped against the sensitive skin of my throat, canines caught on the skin, and pricked it oh so carefully. Asmond began muttering madly into my skin, speaking in that awful language. Not knowing what promises he was whispering made me feel vulnerable and afraid. Clearly, something was very, very wrong. I wondered if something we had done triggered this response, this change. I had to calm him down, bring him back. I didn’t know how far he would take this.  
“Asmond,” I whispered quietly, trying to speak in a calm, soothing voice. He tensed this time when he heard me say his name, “It’s okay, Asmond. Please let me up-” his grip tightened, apparently not liking that idea.   
“-It’s almost time to go,” I tried instead, “Everything is alright.” He pulled back slightly, confusion in his eyes, but they still glinted with something dangerous. I slowly brought a hand to his cheek, his skin burned. I hoped the action would calm him as it had before. Maybe he would remember. To my relief, he closed his eyes and leaned into my hand. So, I brought my other one up and cupped the other side of his face. His body rocked forward slightly and I was afraid he was going to collapse on top of me. But Asmond stilled and relaxed, a sigh left his lips. We stayed like that for a while, my arms began to hurt from the exertion. But I listened closely for any change, occasionally rubbing my thumb against his cheekbone.

“Asmond, it’s time to go now. We have stuff to do before we can leave, do you remember?”   
He swayed and opened his eyes, it was him now, I could see. His eyes were clear.   
“Are you alright?” I asked slowly, pushing lightly on his chest so that I could sit back up, “What happened?” Asmond allowed me to push him, and looked around the tent, before finally looking back towards me. 

“I…” He stopped, unsure of himself, “I’m sorry.” He stepped backward, giving me plenty of space, purposely not blocking the exit. Despite the opportunity, I remained where I was Turning away, he avoided my gaze. This was a far cry from the dangerous display I had seen, and the previous hardened soldier he usually showed. He was showing vulnerability, he was pained and afraid. Afraid of himself, it seemed. 

“That wasn’t,” I hesitated, unsure of what to ask, “You, was it?”   
He didn’t speak for a long time, but then he whispered, “No, but it was. It is what I’ve become. What I will be.”  
“I don’t understand,” I told him truthfully.   
“It happens when I lose myself. Usually only in battle, or when I become enraged. It’s a... result of being what I am, I suppose. I don’t know if I can learn to control it, or if it will eventually consume me entirely. And that… scared me.” Asmonds' voice shook as he revealed this to me.  
“Why did it happen this time?” I asked carefully. He shook his head, “I don’t know. Maybe I was reminded of… I don’t know, maybe I began to lose myself.”  
“Will it happen again?” Asmond paused again, thinking hard, “No, I don’t think so. If I expect it to come, I can control it better.” I looked away, nodding. Goddamn, that was terrifying. I shouldn’t have been surprised, I wasn’t dancing with anyone. I was out of my own world now, I was in his, his rules, and his logic. I had to expect this, of course. But did I want it?  
“I never would have hurt you on purpose, I swear by that, Margo.”  
“I believe you.” I said, but did I? I looked away, unsure of myself, and began to speak, “My dad has a brain disease that causes him to act like that sometimes.” 

Asmond turned, intrigued, “Can you tell me about it?”  
I nodded, leaning closer, “It’s called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, he was in the war before I was born. What he saw there, the fighting, and how he had to shoot people, it hurt his brain real bad. Sometimes, certain things would trigger it, and it would be like he was back in the war. He wouldn’t recognize us anymore. He would become violent, sometimes, our mom made us leave the house. I was usually home with him more than Jason or mom, so when he had an attack, I would have to calm him down. It took a lot of trial and error, but now, I can help him through it rather quickly.”

“Then, maybe I have Post Traumatic Stress,” Asmond wondered aloud, “I know my mind is hurt too, even from my younger days. I fought many wars, many battles. The transition doesn’t help, of course.”

“What transition?”  
Asmond tensed, “Maybe that is enough for tonight.” I had hit that sensitive subject again, but I felt like I was getting somewhere. I began to wonder, at one point, was he a human like me?

“I have a few things I need to do before we leave. The soup is by the fire, I’ll send Peb- my Hell Knight to stay with you while I am away. After that, maybe we can talk more while we travel.” Clearly what I asked had further upset him, he was deflecting and running from me.

“Wait!” I called, a thought coming into my mind. He stopped just at the entrance, turning back to look at me, “What about the other one?” For a moment, Asmond considered this, before turning back around, “He won’t bother you, or my Hell Knight, again. I’ve made sure of it. And I feel my demonstration made it very clear for others not to harm you.” I shuddered slightly at how he spoke, he was so sure of himself. Clearly, he held weight within his cavalry, but how much power did he truly have?  
“Thank you,” I said, but he was already gone, the canvas flapped with his absence. I stayed in the empty tent for a while, thinking. What the hell had happened? It had come out of nowhere and I had not expected it period. From his episode to the kiss. Sure, there was tension between us, but I hadn’t thought of it like that. I never would have expected him to like a, well, human like myself. I sighed, I suppose I could do nothing but do what he suggested. But wait, had Asmond not brought soup already? A quick scan revealed that not one, but both bowls had been knocked over during the fiasco. Not knowing what else to do and having no reason to stay, I straightened my top and exited the tent. 

I had eventually made my way to the large bomb fire, different creatures were circled around it. I found a bowl and had already finished two bowls of the food, which was in a large pot a little too close to the fire. The meat, I noted, was pink-ish and tasted similar to steak, but better. Now, I sat some ways away from the flames, near an odd purple demon with odd eyes. The fire quelled the cold of the late night, I couldn't see the stars or moon over the thick clouds that still hung in the air but I knew they were still there. That thought brought me comfort. But, as a result, it was too dark for me to see if I went beyond any firelight. 

I continued to sit for some time, watching the clouds in the far distance. Sometimes, lightning would strike, and the landscape would briefly be illuminated. I could see mountains rising in the distance, it almost seemed like they were moving. Surely it was the trick of the light? They were standing, reaching, moving. Thunder bellowed out from the great beyond. Frowning, I stood and walked away from the fire, stepping lightly over debris as I did. There was a torch stuck in the ground a little ways away, I grabbed it without much thought, noting that the fire appeared more blue than orange, in fact, they mixed into a beautiful green. With the new light, I made my way across the torn down camp and eventually made it to the edge of the camp. Like Asmond had mentioned, no demon stopped or harassed me. I weaved between trees, following the lightning in the distance. This time, when the thunder rolled, the ground shook softly.   
It paused, thundered, shook once, twice, paused, thundered, shook once, twice. I climbed up onto a hill, gazing out into the void. Lightning crackled and lit the far off landscape, light exploded behind a… a mountain? A tree perhaps. No, it was too far away, to be a tree. It had to be a mountain, was there an earthquake? The next flash of light revealed enough for me to understand that what I was seeing was alive. The mountains were walking, the mountains were bellowing. I stared in a mixture of awe and horror. Heavy steps sounded behind me, I spun around in fear. I hoped it was Asmond, despite his erratic behaviors that left me confused and a little afraid. If I was being honest, though, part of it excited me.

“Who is it?” I called.   
“ _Krrr?”_ Close enough, I suppose.   
“Hi, Pebbles,” I greeted, turning away from the horrible thing in the distance since that was all I could really do. Once again, I remembered that this was not my world anymore, things were not the same. Things would never be the same and I would simply have to cope with this new age. Learn and evolve with it. Besides, I don’t think the mountain was coming our way regardless. To be safe, I glanced once more, but as the lightning flash I didn’t see any movement, the quakes had finally stilled. I could only hear the wind rustling the leaves.   
Pebbles made a deep purring sound, like an oversized cat. I smiled, “Okay, big guy, let's head back.” And we did, with Pebbles help, we made it back in half the time. The progress they made had been phenomenal, everything was now strapped onto the two carts. I wondered just how long I had been gone, how long I had been transfixed to the mountains. Something huffed and moved, something big.  
“Woah, what are _those?_ ” I gapped at the beasts now attached to the carts. There was one on each, two total. Intricate leather wrapped around them and linked to the carts. The creatures were huge and had to be taller than a Shire horse, thicker, too. In fact, they resembled horses in design. With thick, long legs and an equine-like skull. Muscles appeared to be directly attached to the bones, I couldn’t see fur or skin. Or maybe that was the skin, maybe it was just that tight. On its underside, I could see weird appendages tucked in like a bird would hold its wings, or how a dinosaur would hold its arms. With a closer look, and much to my horror, they appeared to be human arms and hands, there were so many it looked like a centipede. An awful, wrong centipede that had no right to be here. At the base of the neck was one more pair, curled up and tucked in like how a woman might place both fists into her breast bone. The creature had a thick mane and tail, a dark color that seemed to almost be a void in the already dark night. The eyes were vacant sockets set deep into an almost fully exposed skull. It had lips, but I could still see the horribly long, carnivore-like teeth that jutted out like fangs. The one closest to me opened its mouth with a yawn, I realized with shock that its mouth opened like a dog, instead of the short muzzle a horse normally had. Idly, they pawed at the dirt with massive hooves. I was so transfixed I didn’t hear the approaching steps.   
“They won’t hurt you.” I gasped and spun, finding Asmond close to my side, “Come, I’ll show you.” I feverishly shook my head but he had grabbed me by the wrist and was already dragging me towards the massive beast. But his grip was gentle, I could have easily broken away.  
“These are the _Helleque_ , though this breed is far different from what you usually find roaming their land. Here, touch her mane.”  
Standing now uncomfortably close, I could feel its -her- body heat. My height barely reached the base of her neck, but her thick locks hung well past it. Hesitantly, with all the slowness I could manage, I touched her hair. To my surprise, the strands were thick and incredibly soft, with a certain oiliness like fresh wool had.  
“Despite their look, Helleque are very gentle creatures. Oh, she likes you!” At the same time he had said that, I felt a tug at the bottom of my shirt. I looked down and yelped behind clenched teeth. Several hands had uncurled to touch at the fabrics of my clothes. I withdrew my hand, but as I did, the one on her chest reached forward to feel my own hair  
“It’s okay, calm down,” Asmond placed his own hands onto my shoulders, “She’s only curious, she won’t hurt you.” I hesitated but brought my hand back up to her mane. She made an odd huff at that, she sounded content. One hand grabbed onto my shirt like a toddler might, and simply held on.  
“This is Relik, and that,” Asmond nodded over to the other Helleque, who was looking over curiously, the hands underneath its stomach wrang their fingers together, “That is Wash’aem, her brother.”   
“Were they reborn as demons?” I asked, moving to feel the odd muscles with my free hand, it felt velvety.  
“No, these are true hell residents. They’ve evolved like your horses would, due to similar needs and circumstances.”  
“But they eat meat?” I concluded on my own. Asmond laughed and nodded, “They eat meat, yes. Plants, too, those teeth in front are mainly used for defense. Relik’s favorite food is, surprisingly, oranges.”  
“From here?” I mock gasped, “Scandalous.”   
“Come say hi to Wash’aem.” Following Asmond, I untangled myself from Relik and made my way to her brother. His hair was equally soft and much thicker than Reliks, it hung over his eyes and snout, only his maw jutted out from the thickness.   
“Hi, Wash’aem,” I said quietly, “It’s nice to meet you.” In response, he brought his hair down and pushed his massive head against my chest. He rubbed it there a few times affectionately. Oddly, his arms remained tucked into his belly and chest.  
“They’re hitched up to pull the cart, but you could ride them.”  
I turned and gaped at him, “Really?” Asmond chuckled, “Yes, Relik was my personal Helleque for some time, Wash’aem was my brothers. Now, they are used for the armies, but they still stay with me, with my group.”  
“What happened to your brother?” I asked tentatively. Asmond sighed, “Another story for another day. Down, Wash’aem.” Obediently, the beast kneeled onto his front knees, but he was still too tall for me to simply clamber on.

“Now then, up we go.” Before I could protest, or react in any manner, Asmond cupped his hands underneath my arms and lifted me like a child, swinging me easily onto the Helleque. I gasped with shock and froze, unsure of what to do next. Wash’aem stood back up and for once, I was taller than Asmond.  
“Wh-what do I do?” I asked, not knowing where to even put my hands. Asmond chuckled, “Relax, you don’t have to do anything, someone else will be driving, you just have to hold on. I sat for some time, petting his mane carefully. After a while, I felt a tug at my shoe, he felt the laces with curiosity. And then, with one man driving the cart -Asmond, apparently- he barked an order and Wash’aem took off. I yelped at the speed, feeling his muscles contract underneath me. I was jostled quite a bit at first but then learned to lock my legs down and lean in close to his neck. The soft mane billowed around me and tickled my face.  
“How do they see?” I managed to yell back between being bounced on the bumps.   
“Echolocation, those hairs are actually sensory organs, it's why they like them being petted so much. The Hellequin makes quiet clicks that reverberate off of the strands and bounce off of the surrounding environment. So that way they can see in almost all directions. Depending on how loud they click, the range of sight could reach up to two miles, that coupled with how fast they run, makes a terrifyingly efficient blind predator.”  
I leaned down to try to listen for the clicks, but couldn’t hear anything at all. I did notice, however, that the strands of hair produced their own heat on a small scale. 

“Wow,” I muttered to myself, appreciating the great beast beneath me. However, it took about ten minutes before the rough ride and consistent weird petting from the Helleque were too much and I all but threw myself from the animal. Asmond, with a playful, disapproving look, pulled me onto the seat beside him and commanded Wash’aem to continue on. I sat next to him for some time, both of us not wanting to break the comfortable silence. The sitting bench was meant for only one person, I ended up sitting quite close to him, my shoulder pressed against his side. But it was nice, comforting.  
“It’s going to be a long night, we’re traveling well into the day too. There’s space back there for you to sleep. If you like,” Asmond said after a while. I thanked him and moved over the back. Stumbling half-hazardly over the wood bench. In front of the stacked boxes, right behind the bench as he said, there was a little pallet made. The nice blanket from Asmonds bed was there, along with a couple pillows. I smiled to myself, he must’ve done this. I got comfortable, half laying on the blanket and half covering up with it. After a moment, I moved to look past the tent, wondering how everyone else was doing. I could see, strangely enough, most of the demons bounded with the carts, running like animals. Some of them, I noticed, such as the more human ones were crammed into the other cart. The one I was in seemed to be exclusively for supplies, almost. Finally, I turned and settled back down.

I laid there for a while, reflecting on the last few days. How long have I been here? I wondered if Jason and Dad thought I was dead, I wished I could let them know I was okay somehow. I wondered if Mom was still alive, how would she feel about my circumstances? This was all circumstantial, of course, it was, it had to be. Circumstances lead me to this situation. But what about Asmond? He had tried to kill me that first night, of course, he had. But circumstances change, and here I was now. And he had kissed me, I had kissed him back. I wasn’t sure if what was happening was right, I was sure I should fight him, hate him, everything I’ve felt before coming here. But now, everything is different. I don’t understand what’s happening anymore, I don’t understand how I feel, how I should feel. But I do know one thing, I wished he would kiss me again.  
“Asmond?” I asked quietly. Immediately, he hummed in response. I waited for a while before continuing, treading carefully on what I was saying, “Were you in control when you kissed me?” I felt silly asking, as if I was back in high school and confused with where I stood with a boy. Like me, Asmond paused as I had, but finally, he murmured, “Yes, I was in control.” I felt my heart flutter at the thought, I smiled to myself. The comfortable silence returned and no other words were exchanged between us. Yet I wondered if that was a meaningless moment of tension, or if it was something much much more. There was no use dwelling on it anymore, however, it was too late for that. And the blanket was so warm, the rocking of the wagon was calming, and the night air was comfortably cool against the skin of my cheeks. It didn’t take me long to fall into a deep sleep.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun designing the Helleque, I hope to make art of them soon, they're so lovely sounding. The arms idea was influenced by artwork I came across.


	9. Repetition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "A creature of darkness, the Prowler hunts from the shadows, preferring stealth and concealment to open conflict. Imbued with parietal infravision, the Prowler is able to see that which is unseen to the naked eye. Known among the Sentinels as 'the Nightstalker', the Prowler's preternatural sense of sight makes it a lethal hunter, capable of tracking its prey even in the pitchest black of dark. Believed to be peripherally descendant to the lesser Imp brooding, the Prowler is rarely seen in groups, forsaking pack-hunting for the precision of the solitary pursuit."  
>  -Codex entry, ARC

I awoke to the wagon lurching to a stop, muffled shouts sounded from outside. Groggily, I stored and turned towards Asmond, who was tying the reins to the seat and began to clamber over it.  
“We’re stopping for a while, one of the wheels busted on the other wagon,” He whispered lowly.   
“Do I need to move?” I asked in the same hushed tone, shifting out of the blanket. Asmonds eyes settled on mine and he paused, before quickly shaking his head, “No, no. I just need to get past you, grab something in that bag there.” I rolled over towards him fully, offering to grab it. Asmond shook his head once more and carefully moved past, “It’s really not a problem,” He muttered, pawing at the space, trying to find the said bag, “That and there are other things in this bag a human shouldn’t get into.”

I could fit comfortably if I curled up but Asmond swallowed the space and was crouched too close. My head was positioned near the back of the wagon, conveniently where he was searching. This would really be easier if I just moved. Every time Asmond shifted, his body would lean over mine and my breath would hitch. I couldn’t help but linger on the thought of that, despite how much I wanted to push it away. It didn’t help, when Asmond tried to reach a little too far back and fell forwards, catching himself on my clothed thigh. I felt the cool metal of his armor and blushed, looking from it back to the man. He continued to reach with the newfound leverage he had, I don’t think he noticed. 

“Asmond,” I gasped when his hand slid forward, farther up my leg. It ruffled the jeans I wore, pulled them up slightly on my skin.   
“I almost have it,” He said, tugging on the bag, “I just need to-” He yelped as he jerked the bag free, throwing himself forward to counterbalance the fall. The hand moved to plant itself onto the box beside my head, his chest bumped momentarily against mine. Effectively, I was caged in and wasn’t, well, not enjoying.   
“Asmond,” I said again, this time he met my eyes. He didn’t move for a moment, staring from his position above. I kept his gaze, my blush deepening to a reddened hue. I noticed now that he didn’t have his mask on, the faint light reflected off of his incisors.   
“Are you stuck?” I finally asked, laughing quietly.   
“No,” He said, but still didn’t move.   
“Then what are you doing?” Wordlessly, Asmond leaned forward, as if to catch my lips, but then he pulled back just as suddenly. Something danced in his eyes, maybe fear, maybe regret.   
I frowned, “Why are you hesitating?” Really, I was confused about where I stood too, shouldn’t I be hesitating?  
“I don’t want to hurt you,” He finally admitted. Ah, that was the glint in his eyes. Shame.

I couldn’t help but laugh, “Well that’s a change from when we first met.” I frowned then, all humor leaving the atmosphere. Why wasn’t I dead, why had I been spared?

I looked away, “What is it that makes me special? Why am I...” Not dead.

“You’re…” he paused and sighed, as if unsure of what he was saying, “You’re a Sentinel. Not a full blood, but a Sentinel nonetheless.” He leaned backward, his hand rose to sweep back hair that wasn’t there, he instead bumped it against the small horns that went up his skull and disappeared down his neck.  
“I don’t know what that means,” I admitted, “What does that mean?”  
“It means… a lot. You and I are the same, almost. It means I can’t take your life. That would be dishonoring, a crime to my -and your- kind.”   
“That’s the only reason?” I asked, noting his disheartened look, “Because of tradition?”  
“Yes,” He said and began to turn to leave. Quickly, I sat up and grabbed hold of the easiest thing, his horn. It was rough and warm under my skin, Asmond immediately froze when I did, tensing.   
“You’re a bad liar,” I said with a smile, grabbing a hold of the other horn and turning his head towards me, “A really bad liar.” I leaned back and pulled him with me. Or rather, he leaned down, I knew I didn’t have the strength to possibly pull his weight. There, our bodies chokingly close, his face close to mine. So close, I could see the details of his eyes. In the dim light, they seemed to glow a dull red, the pupils paler than the iris. He stared back, seemingly admiring my own. We stayed like this for a moment, both not knowing what to do next. I was surprised by my own actions, never having been one to take what I wanted. Well, if hell can open up and overtake earth, I guess I can change too.  
“You don’t know what you’re doing,” Asmond warned.  
“I know exactly what I’m doing,” I lied, sliding my hands from his horns to his back, false confidence urging me to continue. I could feel the muscles there, how oddly his skin felt, like leather, the unnatural heat he had that wasn’t quite alive. Asmond frowned, clearly fighting a battle behind his eyes. I spoke softly in encouragement, “I trust you, Asmond.”

“You shouldn’t trust a demon,” He replied, his eyes flicked down to my lips, and then farther down my body.   
“Wouldn’t be my worst mistake,” I smiled, “Are you going to kiss me?”   
“No,” he muttered, but was already leaning down. Like before, I met him halfway, pressing my lips against his. Asmond shifted to support his weight on one arm, the other hand sliding behind to tangle in my hair. He was still a tad rough with his kiss, not inexperienced, but like he hasn’t in a long time. But clearly, he was holding back, his other fist gripped and twisted the blanket. The other one that was in my hair was gentle in comparison, feeling the careful strands and pulling me closer, his mouth opening slightly as he did. I mimicked his action, moving my own arm to drape it across his neck. 

Suddenly, a force slammed into the wagon and caused it to rock, the kiss was broken immediately. I yelped and rolled with the force. Asmond, once more, lost his balance and fell forward, just barely stopping himself from crushing me.   
“Fix the wagon!” A thick voice hollered, I flinched and recognized it as Erak’thile. Asmond righted himself and pulled himself up, grabbing the bag. He murmured something I couldn’t understand and had a look in his eyes I couldn’t place. Then he turned and clambered to leave.

I could feel his attitude as he left, anger boiled off of his skin and seethed from behind his teeth. With some effort, he forced himself out and was gone. I heard him jump off the cart, lowly snarling something in his native tongue. Erak’thile replied with something that sounded just as nasty. I groaned in annoyance and sat up, crawling out of the space myself. Now was the time to stretch I suppose, I didn’t know when I would get the chance again. Stepping carefully from the wagon, I had to jump the last few feet because it was disproportionately large for my height. I walked around it and peered at the commotion, The other wagon sat at an odd, slanted angle, the wheel missing. A ways away laid Ralik, her hands neatly folded and clasped underneath her, her front set played idly with the grass. Far off, I heard Asmond say, “Pebbles, take the girls and two imps, scout the area. This is going to take longer than I thought” I smiled to myself when I heard him say Pebbles’ name, I also assumed that the “girls” were the two snake sisters.  
“Hey girl,” I greeted as I approached Ralik. She huffed in response and laid her head down, her black mane spilling everywhere like ink. I settled myself next to her and played with the thick strands, carefully holding a thunk away of the rest. I began breading that part with ease, the careful, methodical folding of the weird hair was deeply calming. I remembered that my mother would braid her hair all the time, and saw it in pictures of her, even on her wedding day. 

The braid ended up being about as thick as my arm. As I finished it up, Ralik laid an arm across my lap in content, making a sound similar to a sigh. I noticed that when I finished and let go, the strands held the shape nearly perfectly. I was about to get started on another braid when she suddenly raised her head. Ralik froze, staring in a specific direction, her ears twisted and moved in various directions before settling on one spot. I could suddenly hear an odd clicking sound, deep in her throat. Her strands, much to my surprise, began to wiggle and vibrate, moving to spread out to drape around her body, ear to ear. I stared in a mixture of awe and disbelief, watching the odd display of hell biology.

Suddenly, Ralik jerked, the arms under her stomach pushed her up off of the ground. I yelped when she did, afraid she would kick me on accident, but she avoided my body effortlessly.

“Asmond,” I nervously called out, “Something’s wrong.” But it was too late, Ralik threw her head back and reared, her front hooves slashed the air and the arms made a claw-like twisted motion as they outstretched. A horrible sound ripped through her throat. It sounded like a woman screaming and sobbing all at once. Across the area, Wash’aem answered her cry with his own, just as high pitched. Without a second more, she spun and tore her way away from the direction she had been staring, almost slamming into Asmond in the process. He stared as she went, just as baffled. I scrambled to my feet and saw Wash’aem pulling relentlessly against his bindings, trying to follow his sister. Finally, with a loud _snap_ , he jerked free and took off.   
I turned around, “Asmond?” His eyes were just as wide as mine  
“Something is wrong,” he said, “Something must have spooked them.” Hesitantly, I came to Asmond’s side, afraid, “What could it be?”   
“Well,” He frowned, abandoning the cart and walking around to where the Helleque’s had fled from, “Helleque of that breed have very few predators. A pack of Gargoyles could take down one, but that wouldn’t scare them off like that. Maybe something bigger, A Balgar particularly likes the taste of them, but it couldn’t possibly be one of them. The only one I’ve personally seen was captured and killed. It’s not a Thrall, either, they’re way too big to miss.”  
“Like mountains?” I asked suddenly, remembering what I had seen before.

Asmond frowned, puzzled, “Yes… but no Thrall has been sent out yet, not until the consumption reaches at least half. Or when the humans get out of hand. You’ve seen one?”  
“I think after the, you know, incident with Erak’thile, I walked for a while and found a dip where I could see over the trees. When the lightning would flash, I would hear a sound like thunder, the ground would shake. I saw the… the mountains were walking. And then they weren’t anymore.” I explained, “Pebbles was with me, but I think that was after it stopped.”  
Asmond considered this, bringing a hand to touch his chin, “That is a Thrall, all right. Either the Priests are here and the consumption is peaking. Or the humans are fighting back and winning.”

I looked down, frowning. For me, that was a good thing, right? I should be happy, proud. Why did I feel… indifferent? Disappointed? I suppose I don’t quite know where I stand anymore, I don’t know where my values lay. Sure, I was raised as a human, but was I? I had my family, my world. But then again, Asmond was appealing in the best, most sinful ways. That’s probably not what I was supposed to be doing.  
“Either way,” Asmond rose his voice, capturing the attention of the others awaiting direction, “We’ll split up and search for the Helleque’s, we’re going nowhere without them. Set up camp here as well, get a fire started and send a signal to base, let them know we’re running late.” A nearby demon scurried off to do so, another produced flames in his palms and trotted away.  
“Erak’thile,” I flinched at his name and turned, suddenly realizing he was on the edge of the crowd, his interlocking teeth ground together as he sneered. Asmond went on, “Organize groups, the Helleque will flee from the thing they fear. I will have a group to track the source. It’s possible a Thrall has escaped, and from what the human has told me, is asleep.” I frowned, guess I was still human after all. That settles that, I guess.  
“Margo,” he lowered his voice so that I could only hear, “You’ll come with me, I’ve found many of my colleagues don’t agree with my practices in keeping you.” Oh great, was I still a prisoner or a pet now?  
I sighed in exasperation instead of fear, “Is it Erak’thile?” He nodded and explained that it was others as well, not just Erak'thile. When he finished, he stood back up, “Pebbles is already doing his job. So we’ll take a few imps and a Prowler. They,” He turned with emphasis, “are the best at tracking. We only need a small party, A Thrall can sleep for centuries, and if it’s not, we won’t be close enough for anything to happen regardless.” 

“What if it's a Balgar?” I asked, struggling to pronounce the unnatural name. Asmond stood straighter, “We run like hell.”  
In total, our group was two imps, a soldier, and a Prowler. The soldier was one of the hellified humans, a vacant mind that followed orders of the highest power, Asmond in this case.

I found that the Prowler was the weird purple demon I had seen near the bonfire a while back, the one with the three little eyes that were stacked like a triangle. He had sharpened claws and a spike on each shoulder, similar to the imps. His skin was also made of the hard outer exoskeleton like flesh, and his upper body was massive compared to the slender build of the waist and legs. His feet were insect-like, the weight balanced on two small claws and a smaller foot like a stilt. Its bottom jaw was split, each side moved independently as it made rumbling purr like growls. As we walked through the forest, he would erratically disappear and reappear, teleporting around. A fine purple glow followed his figure and danced around his frame. 

I stayed, unsurprisingly, close to Asmond, who had his ax activated and his mouthguard back on. If I strayed too far from him, one of the imps would swipe at me with claws engulfed in flames. Asmond would hiss back at them, but when he turned, and I strayed, they would swipe again like cats. We walked through the forest as a group, the light from the Imps lit the area, but by now my eyes adjusted enough to see. The silent lighting in the clouds was more frequent, it was easier to see now. I would peek up occasionally, fearful that I would see movement. Sometimes I did, great shadows undulating among the thickness. 

The Prowler suddenly disappeared, Asmond halted the group when he didn't immediately return. After several moments, he was back, showing up some twenty feet away. There, he turned and began frantically half running, half teleporting that way. 

“Gotcha,” Asmond snickered, “It can’t be far, A Thrall’s oder is-” A rumbling screech ripped through the silence, the Prowler appeared, a cut across its abdomen, it ran towards us. The sound of metal grinding against metal screamed into the night. The Prowler lurched forward and stopped, a scream ripping from its throat. 

In the dim light, I could see a two-pronged blade sticking through his abdomen. Brilliant gold glinted in the night, spotted with red. I could also see the blood splattering thickly onto the ground, the agony on the Prowlers' face, the feral rage resided in his eyes. A chain ran from the creatures back and was swallowed into the void. With a heavy click, the chain began to retract with such speed that the Prowler was yanked so hard, his body left the ground. Screaming. It disappeared into the dark and a wretched tearing sound was heard, the sound stopped. With held breaths, we all waited. I clung to Asmond, realizing how utterly defenseless I was.

But the wait wasn’t long, seconds later, a torso was thrown into our field of vision. Purple and headless and missing from the stomach down. Asmond suddenly forced me behind his back, his blade raised as a shield in front of me.   
Out of the black, he came. A lumbering tyrant, dripping with murder and rage. I cowered into Asmonds side, watching as the monster took shape. He wore metal armor that was a dark green, his abdomen was plated and bronze, as were his shoulders. His helmet gleamed in the night, the abyss stares back from beneath his visor. I cried out when I saw him, overcome with fear and dread. This was him. This was the Beast. 

He held a gun, red in color, a golden twin-blade at the front of it. I could see it had twin barrels, a shotgun. It leered with as much malice as the creature himself. The lower half of his upper arm was exposed, revealing human-like skin. Deceptive. He stopped some ways from us, simply standing. Asmond kept me close, staring back, the few demons with us were anxiously still, waiting. The Beast turned his head, I knew his gaze had settled on me, his head cocked ever so slightly. Turning back to Asmond, he cocked his shotgun, and all hell broke loose.   
In an instant, Asmond rose his ax and shot an arc of light into the sky. Electricity danced from it and alerted anyone of our surroundings. The burning red color flared out and illuminated everything as it rose. 

The three meager demons leaped into action, briefly halting his advances. The soldier shot a square of energy that exploded on contact with the Beast. Just as quickly, his body exploded from the force of the shotgun. The Beast grunted and grabbed an imp as it slashed at his abdomen, denting the metal. With a hand on each side of the Imps face and pushed and cracking assaulted my ears. The skull gave way and splattered as if it was merely an egg. The remaining imp threw fire, clinging to the bark of a nearby tree. The Beast advanced, a blade shot out of his arm as he swung his fist. Blood painted the bark and entrailed hit the ground with a splat. I screamed then, the sound of human fear drastically contrasted with the hellish sounds of battle. Once more, the Beast turned his attention towards me, and threw down the twitching corpse.

Without hesitation, Asmond threw me over his shoulder, gripped his ax, and began to run. He moved so fast that I couldn’t keep up, multiple times my head dropped and my vision darkened. Even so, I heard the Beast giving chase, crashing through the forest. In the distance I could hear the calls of Hell Knights and a trumpeting even farther, answering Asmonds call. Somewhere else, an enraged roar. 

Asmond shot into a clearing and made it about halfway to the other side when the dreaded grinding of metal rang out. Too late to react, I screamed when I saw the two-pronged blade slam into Asmonds back, but it wasn’t enough force to split all the way through his body. He tried to keep going, but was first stopped, then yanked back with inhuman strength. The action caused him to drop me and I hit the ground hard, rolling to a stop and breathing heavily. I raised myself on my elbows and looked up, seeing the blade whiz back into the shotgun. The Beast stilled, watching the situation he created. Asmond was back on his feet, his ax drawn as he steadily backed up to where I laid. I stayed down, too afraid to move, to overcome with the all-consuming grip of imminent death. Asmond stopped just in front of me, yelling out to the monster before him, “Hear me, Slayer! This is not our battle, this is not-” his voice broke slightly, “‘-the time.” He sounded pained, from where I was, I could see blood steadily oozing out from his back, thick and black and wrong. The Beast, the Slayer, didn’t answer, he only leveled his shotgun with Asmond.   
“No!” I yelled when he pulled the trigger. With the same speed I had seen before, Asmond brandished, not his ax, but a shield. It wavered with energy, runes I couldn’t understand flowed just below the surface. It glowed the same deep red as his weapon, illuminating the night with hell energy. The bullets bounced off without so much as a scrape, even when he shot off a second round. The Slayer circled slowly around Asmond, who matched his pace with his shield, still keeping me behind him. The Slayer cocked his weapon, empty casing clattered to the ground. He reloaded it, slamming the chamber shut with a snap. I noticed now that Asmond’s shield seemed to be projected from the armor of his arm, energy wrapped around it, and ran up his shoulder. His hand slowly lowered towards his own gun that hung on his side, almost forgotten in the panic.  
“Margo,” Asmond spoke under his breath, uneven and afraid, “Get ready to run.” I didn’t want to move, I wanted to curl up and cry and wait for whatever was going to happen. But I moved despite my fears, shakily standing to my feet. The Slayer watched my movements, not missing anything. And suddenly, the shield was gone and Asmond brandished his own shotgun, mirroring the Beast. Shooting from his hip, his own bullets slammed into the Slayer's armor, piercing it. I took that as my cue and started to run, I heard Asmond grunt and move. The sound of metal slamming into metal sounded as they crashed together. Two bulls raging for blood. Despite this, I kept going. Just as I had done that first day, I ran, and I didn’t look back.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to my brother, who is an avid Doom lover and fanfic hater, for helping me flesh out where to go with this conflict. Shout out to his main concern being "Why the fuck is Doomguy in Oklahoma?"   
> This chapter was rewritten and scraped a couple of times. I was unhappy where I was taking it, but wanted the Doom Slayer to finally make his first appearance. Because of my formidable foe of a writing process, it took longer for this one to come out. But I'm happy with how it is now and feel it is good enough to be published.   
> Thank you, I appreciate your continued support.


	10. Void

Low hanging tree limbs whipped across my cheeks as I ran. I stumbled over rocks, sticks, and logs. Before I could catch myself, my foot caught under a tree root, and suddenly I was falling through space. The moment lasted a lifetime, as if I was suspended in time. And then the earth rushed to meet me and I slammed into the ground. Unable to do much else, I laid there, pain spearing through my shoulder, my head, my legs. I heard crashing in the distance and pulled myself up. A sudden sharp pain caused me to call back down. I cried out and reluctantly looked. The knee of my jeans tore open, blood flowing freely from a gash that became a tear that ran down my calf. Frantically I looked around, unable to find what would leave such a nasty wound. A shouting behind me urged me to pull myself up and continue, half running and half dragging my hurt leg. I turned briefly to check my surroundings, just in time to witness another arc of red light shoot across the sky, and then I heard a great commotion in front of me. Dozens of feet crashed into the earth.

I gasped and threw myself against a tree, opposite of where they were coming from. Then, by the dozens, demons flood past, ripping through the forest and howling into the night. None paid me any mind, all intent on only one objective. The closest cackled like hyenas as they ran, some whooped and clawed out at others nearby, excited by the noise. 

The Slayer had come, they had been called, and it was their time.

After several moments, the creatures were gone, but as I looked up, I realized, even more, were in the sky. Creatures with small wings and arms that were scythes. More fat, pink, balloon demons floated by with purpose, no longer did they pick at the leaves. But with time, they too left. Higher up in the sky, I could barely make out a bigger round-shaped creature, occasionally catching a glimpse of a single burning eye. 

That’s when it began, the battle I was running from grew in volume. I heard the shriek and the sounds of gunshots. Loud and absolute. As I turned to continue, I caught a flash of green just above the treeline. But that didn’t involve me anymore, so I rushed on wounded legs. I didn’t get very far before crashing to the ground again. This time, dirt and rocks and leaves ground into the open wound, warranting a shriek from my throat. I tried to get up, but the pain became unbearable, I felt the wound tear more, more blood, more pain. With no other option, I curled onto my side and dragged my leg close. I hoped my place among the trees, coupled with the dark, would be enough protection. Inspecting the wound, I knew without looking that It was deep, and wondered if I had got caught on a piece of metal. In the dark, I couldn’t fully assess what had gone wrong entirely, however. 

At first, in a vain attempt at first aid, I tried to rip the bottom off of my jeans, but it held strong despite the rip. Finally, I sat up and pulled off my shirt, wrapping it tightly around the wound, tying the short sleeves together to keep it tight. All the while I screamed through clenched teeth, tears streaming down my cheeks. Only a black tank top covered my chest and bra now, the cold stung my arms and bit into the thin fabric, and it was already ripping. 

Only when I was done, sobbing still, did I realize the forest had grown silent again. All except for cracking in the near distance. Heavy steps trampled through the forest, I turned in horror. A red light glowed from within the darkness. The light was familiar and I grinned through the trauma.   
“As-Asmond!” I cried out, bracing against a tree and pulling myself up, “I’m over here!” I stumbled forward, adrenalin pushing me onwards. The glowing grew stronger, illuminating trees.   
I paused, “Asmond…” I said, a sense of dread washing over my body. I started to shake again, new fat tears welled. Something was wrong. 

A red weapon swept aside foliage, wavering in the night. Runes danced on the surface. Everything about it was the same, but wrong all at once. A sword swept across the air, the tip curved back into two points. I stepped back with wide eyes as he revealed himself all at once. A black visor stared back at me, blood was splattered against green. Glinting in the moonlight that had briefly been revealed, I saw his eyes. Full of hatred and horror and all things bad. 

For some time, he stood there, and I stared back. Fear gripped me like a deer, I wasn’t able to move. Despite the adrenaline, I knew in the back of my mind I would collapse if I tried to run now. My best bet was to stand there, but fighting back was even more impossible. So I watched and waited, shaking as I was completely at his mercy. The Beast came forward with slow steps. I didn’t know if he was being careful or taking his sweet time. But he stopped a few feet away, my eyes dropped to his sword with fear and distrust. Watching my movements, he responded. The red blade dissipated, and once more I was left in darkness. 

I waited with bated breath, but he didn’t move either. 

Finally, unable to handle it any longer, I swallowed my fear, and shakily asked, “What do you want?” He didn’t respond, the silence continued. He did move his head slightly, down maybe, in a soft nod of acknowledgment.   
“You’re the Slayer?” I asked slowly through clacking teeth, “You’re the Beast?” He ever so slightly nodded. I took his response as a good sign. Standing up straighter, I winced and shifted my weight back to my good leg, “Can I… leave?” He shook his head, but made no move to do anything else. 

“I, uh, I can’t walk. So unless you’re going to carry me, I can’t- what are you doing?” My untimely joke proved to be a mistake, as he started to take heavy steps. In response, I stumbled back and shouted for him not to touch me, briefly falling before righting myself again. He didn’t falter, though, and was uncomfortably close when the forest was suddenly flooded with red. I whipped around -following his sharp look- and gaped at what I was witnessing.

A ball of energy, maybe two feet wide, was suspended in midair, it ungulated for a moment before expanding. I gasped and turned fully, unable to comprehend what I was seeing.

Reality seemed to be ripping apart, looking through the space revealed another world entirely. The sky was painted a deep orange that faded into purple, wicked mountains rose in the distance, a barren landscape, a ground made of… no, that couldn’t be right. I looked closer, horror immediately flooded my veins. 

Bones jutted from the ground, flesh melded into stone. Faces gapped, screaming in silence. A torso would jerk momentarily before stilling. Then the demons began to pour through. Imps, Prowlers, Hell Knights, all spewed forth. Slow-moving zombies stumbled out, a mere shell of what they once were. Some brandished shields and guns, others simply shuffled and snarled. I heard the trumpeting bellow of a Tyrant, moments later, it ducked down and tore its way through the portal, a second one followed. I didn’t recognize either, both bore darker flesh, and half of their body was replaced with mechanical parts. The left arm of these creatures had been entirely adapted into a canon-like gun. I watched as one raised it, pointed, and an awful alarm began to sound, clawing at my ears. 

I was about to turn to flee when I doubled over, screaming out. A horrendous pain ripped through my entire being. Falling to my knees, I howled. The pain was too intense to allow any movement, any tears to fall. I looked down at my shaking hands, a blue energy enveloped them, I watched in horror as they started to dematerialize, breaking apart into a fine powder that swirled among the mist. The pain, however, remained present. It traveled up my arms, my throat closed and my chest twisted in agony, silencing any further sound. I could feel the heat on my hands, something thick seeped into my non-existent fingers. Unable to support myself, I collapsed onto my stomach as hell broke out around me. I felt something else then, something deep within me pulled, tugged. It was all wrong, I had never felt such a sensation. My eyes closed, and with one final sharp tug, I didn’t feel anything anymore.

I opened my eyes, trapped in my own consciousness. I could see my body, and I was floating as if suspended in water. The pain was gone, replaced with a constant buzz, as if bees were covering every inch of my skin. I could only hear my thoughts, all other sounds were muted. I realized I couldn’t hear my breath, couldn’t feel my lungs opening and squeezing shut. Yet I wasn’t suffocating. I simply was. Twisting around, only the void surrounded me. Black and all-consuming, devoid of life and light. Yet here I was. I continued to look around, when I moved, it was as if I was encased in a thick mud of nothing. I stayed there for what felt like ages, but finally, turning one last time, I saw her.

I cried out in fear, the vacuum permitted no sound, however. Before me was a creature, white and distinctly bug-like, with a human face. Under the intricate plates, that resembled a dress, were writhing tendrils, plated in their own white bug armor. She was absolutely massive, more than five times my height. Her voice hissed into the void, yet I could hear her, “You do not belong here.”   
She spat it out like it was bile, and sneered down at my being. I raised my eyes to meet her own piercing yellow ones, unable to look away from them. I tried to speak but found I couldn’t, my throat closed around nothing, the pulling sensation returned to my chest. The creature looked down and clicked her tongue, before turning her back on me. And then I began to fall.   
Silently, into the black, I screamed and nothing came out, but I still screamed all the same. The void opened and hellfire rose. Time slowed as I plummeted, fire flicked past my eyes and cradled my body, but I wasn’t burned. With all the force in the world, I hit the ground, collapsing and shouting out, my voice returned along with the pain.  
As if every part of my body was in flames, or breaking apart, it felt as if my bones were shattering, my skin splitting open in all places. And then it was gone, I was left gasping as my senses returned. The only remaining pain was my leg, which seemed dull compared to the previous feelings. 

Prying my eyes open, looking down to thankfully find my hands back where they belonged, happy to see solid ground. I slowly raised myself to my elbows, staring at the ground and stifling a shriek of terror. The ground was warm, and I was laying in a puddle of thick, coagulated blood. Some inches away, I could see a hand jutting from the ground, fingers twitching in the air. I threw myself up only to slip and fall back down, blood splashing back onto my clothes and face. 

“Stay down, it is not easy the first time.” The voice held a familiar accent, I turned my head and met Erak’thile’s own cold ones. I tried to speak but couldn’t, instead sliding farther into a lying position, despite my disgust. Erak’thile came closer, taking heavy steps, he leaned down, close to my level, “Did it hurt, Bastard Child?” God, I wanted to spit in his face. I didn’t of course, mustering all my energy instead to form coherent thoughts.  
“Wh-wha-” I turned and retched onto the ground, coughing and spitting, my throat squeezed and I briefly spasmed, slamming back into the puddle.   
“You get use to it,” He stood back up, turning away, “It will get better.”  
I gagged, managing to cough out, “What happened?” Steadily raising myself first to my knees, and then to my feet. I swayed for a moment but managed to stay upright. I glanced down in disgust, shakily flicking thunks of meat from my shirt. 

“I brought you here,” Erak’thile produced a ball of flame in his fists, “Be thankful, human.” He paused before continuing, “You were teleported, through my power.” To emphasize what he said, he pushed the ball together and then ripped it apart, it burst out with energy and light. My eyes flicked from his display to him, unamused. Actually, I was more upset, wishing he had left me instead of… whatever he had done. I shuddered as the woman's eyes flashed in my mind once more.

“Calm down, human,” he sighed out in annoyance, “It not bad. Pathetic girl-thing.” 

I seethed at his (granted, quite poor) insults, “Motherfucker, I was in the goddamn  _ void. _ For what felt like hours, and as a human, that’s-” Erak’thile snapped his head in my direction, “You what?” I stopped, confused, “That’s… not normal?”

He stalked forward threateningly, stopping just in front of where I stood, I flinched as I was reminded how massive he was, how great of a threat he was capable of being.

“You  _ what _ ?” Erak’thile repeated, narrowing his glowing eyes. 

“I-I… I don’t know. Everything was black, and there was this thing…” Erak’thile snarled in response, “You lie!” He raised his hand as if he would smack me, I flinched and stumbled backward, but he didn’t touch me.

“I-I’m not lying, everything was black. And there was this woman, she wasn’t human, she was white...” He yelled something else, reverting back to his language. Add then he turned to storm away as he growled. I stood there, unsure of what to do. Fearfully, I looked around and gasped in half awe. The sky was a bright orange that faded into a deep purple, matching what I saw through the portal. On closer look, the sky was thick with rolling clouds, shapes dipped in and out of shape. I looked away, fearing what I would see if I looked any longer. I turned around then, reveling in the landscape, which was desolate. The apparent land of flesh was only a small pocket where I had landed on, the skin and meat melded and gave way to pale stone, cracked with age. Carefully stepping around the melded bodies, onto the smooth rocks, and stopped once more. Massive mountains rose in the distance, great… things clung to them like massive reptiles. I turned again and beheld a wicked, curving tower that jutted into the sky. It was massive, standing proud like a medieval castle. Wrapped around it was horrific tendrils, in places meat clung to the metal, massive eyes blinked and stared. What looked like teeth or claws jutted from various spaces. The very top of the tower was opened up, a great beam of energy shot into the sky, the clouds swirled around it. From here, I could see shapes flying and circling around like crows.   
“Bastard Child!” I looked back at Erak’thile, he had stopped walking and was glowering in my direction, “Come.” I didn’t like being treated like a dog, but didn’t have any other option in this foreign landscape. I followed Erak’thile as he began for the tower. 


	11. Burn

I limped on my wounded leg, my shirt around it provided enough pressure to stop the bleeding and keep the two sides together, for the most part. A numb feeling overwashed the pain, followed by an odd tingling. I was worried it had already become infected, so I paused and unwrapped the fabric. The wound was crusted over finely, and shockingly, scar tissue had already formed at the edges. It didn’t even seem that the wound was really open anymore, but I could still see blood underneath the surface. Even if it did heal, the bruising would be incredible. I had no explanation for the healing, deciding it was the unnaturalities of this realm, or the void, maybe. 

Despite no sun being visible and clouds covering the sky, the land was scorching, and everything was lit brightly. As if a constant light shined just out of eyesight. Occasionally, I had to stop just to process everything that was around me, only to have Erak’thile bark for me to hurry up. Large, black pillars rose from the ground, bricks fitted together neatly. Melded onto the side were metal stands that held torches, a green fire burned from inside, orange barely twisting around the edges. 

The air tasted sharp, like a fine spice. Dust was thrown up by wind and ground between my teeth, it tasted like metal. It scratched my throat and left a buzzing sensation on my lips and tongue. The smell was a mixture of dirt and the sweetness of distant rot. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, as I expected, but it was strong. I could feel the heat of the rocks through my tattered shoes, I had to step around pools of different substances. One popped bubbles and was a beautiful purple color, others smelled horrendous and were a deep red-brown. It was oddly quiet, save for a distant call of some beast every once and awhile.

The things on the mountains rarely moved but would occasionally turn to the other side of the mountain peak, as if searching for a sun that wasn’t out yet. I flinched at the sudden sound of metal grinding against stone screeching into the quiet landscape. I turned back towards Erak’thile. Before us, about twenty yards away, large doors were sliding open. Runes were carved on the stone, certain ones began to glow a brilliant green as it opened, following a pattern that was mirrored on each side. Erak’thile led me through and up to a smaller set of doors, ones that led into the structure itself. The building was the same black stone, it was crumbling in places, near the tops, where ledges jutted from the stones, demons posed like gargoyles. Their empty eyes followed me as I walked. I almost bumped into Erak’thile in my awe, gasping before retreating a step, only to further slide behind him when I saw what was guarding the door.

A demon glowered with crossed arms, the same species of Erak’thile, but larger. His skin was a deep auburn color, his shoulder spikes were much larger and sharper, and his scowl showed even more disgust towards me. 

The auburn one held his hand up, indicating towards me before hissing out syllables that hurt my ears. Erak’thile replied in a higher-pitched voice, seemingly offended, before reverting back to English, “I return it.” 

The other one glanced at me and took the hint, “It belongs to you? No? The Deag, then?”

Erak’thile shook his head, “Asmond’ia Ahgreal. Second General of the Marauders.” The other sneered, “He does not take slaves. He has no need.” Leaning in, Erak’thile grinned sharply, he murmured something low. 

The auburn demon glanced down before nodding, “Ah, I see. Return her then and report to the grand hall. Deag orders.”  
Erak’thile continued and I nervously followed, glancing up at the larger demon. Suddenly, it lashed out, grabbing my arm and twisting me around, staring down at my chest. I resisted the urge to cover myself, fearing that would be a mistake. 

“It isn’t marked,” he snarled, gesturing to my chest.

“Asmond’dia hasn’t had the time.”

“Then see to it.” The demon released me with one last glare, almost shoving me down with the force. Shakily, I righted myself and rushed closer to Erak’thile. Once we were both out of earshot (I hoped, at least) I turned to him, “What does he mean?”   
“You need to have a mark, his sigil, perhaps. Mandatory, it keep you safe.” 

“Like a tattoo?” I didn’t like the idea but didn’t like being grabbed by a demon more. He nodded, regarding me thoughtfully, “It provides certain protection, mainly telling others not to touch. That, and the environment.”

“The environment?” Erak’thile hummed with a flashing grin, “The air is toxic.”  
“But... I feel fine?” My throat still itched and my lips seemed to buzz a little more, was that what he meant?

“It’s a slow process, you’ll feel it soon without the mark. We get it now.”  
“Will it hurt?” I asked, but Erak’thile didn’t answer. I never had the time to get a tattoo, but my father was covered in them, and I had gone with Armin when he got his first. He told me it felt like getting a shot without the injection. Just, a bunch of times. 

Now inside, I glanced around in aw, still following Erak’thile. On most of the walls, the stone was carved to show scenes, depictions of history maybe. White marbled accented with plated gold. The one closest to me showed a carving of an eyeless monster, a crown of sorts around its head. While decrepit and skeletal, it held the shape of a woman. 

Another showed a massive titan, its size shown by smaller figures at its feet. It appeared to be a classical depiction of Satan, with cloven hooves and a goat head to match, wicked teeth sneered from it’s parted lips. A third showed a massive battle, an army was circled around one figure, but all detail of it had been scraped away from it, only a shape remained. In the sky, over the army, stood another large figure, accented in gold. I stopped walking, the shape of it matched the woman-figure I saw in the void, perhaps it was the same one or a similar species. 

I didn’t have time to wonder as Erak’thile shouted for me to keep up. 

We passed several doors, some open, and some were archways. One room appeared to be a library of sorts, the tall walls were covered in books and scrolls, at the center, a short thing with a massive brain skittered around. It sat on mechanical legs like a spider, it’s tiny mouth held what looked like a pencil. It rotated on the legs like a swivel chair, and frosty blue eyes, set directly into the brain matter, met my own briefly before it turned again.

Another opening led down a winding hallway, pictures hung on the walls as it went. Erak’thile stopped at the one adjacent, I followed, feeling suddenly small. The doorway itself was massive to accommodate those of larger sizes, it led to a room that was mostly open. In the far corner, a massive furnace sat, bubbling liquid, lava maybe, glowed from within the belly of it. Many metal robs were stuck in it. One wall was covered in various weapons, mostly blades, and axes. On another, a large canvas paper was nailed to it, blueprints of sorts etched on with black charcoal. I stepped closer in curiosity. The creature was half machine, A torso attached to a platform-like sled, like an awful centaur. It had horns that curved up like a bull and appeared very emaciated, nothing too shockingly different from what else was there. 

Across the room, a demon turned from a desk, hissing out at Erak’thile, It had no eyes, instead sporting a single crater in the center of its face. Its horns grew up and curved down, almost like an ‘M’ shape. Erak’thile snarled back at it, indicating me again. I stood, slightly afraid but also feeling a sense of awkwardness. The demon came close and I took a nervous step back, but otherwise held my ground. It looked over my body despite having no eyes, clucking its tongue like a chicken as it did, “What kind?” He spoke in a thick accent, and when he did, a black tar would drip between its curved teeth. Erak’thile answered first in his own language, before adding, “It belong to Asmond’dia Ahgreal, I was tasked with getting it marked. The sigil should do enough.” The other nodded thoughtfully, before turning and pacing back to the furnace, he reached into the lava. I flinched and almost shouted, but he was unharmed as he pulled out one of the rods, the orange liquid dripping from his blackened hand.

The creature let go of the metal, yet it remained suspended in midair, and then, with a slight twitch of his claws, the metal began to twist and reshape. Parts cut off and fell to the floor, others remained floating at the sides. The largest piece was in the center, it matched the rune that was on Asmonds belt, I realized. I recognized the other shapes as runes too but didn’t know what they meant.   
“Okay,” he said as he guided the metal pieces back into the lava, “Restrain her.” Too late did I realize what the metal was for, I was too enthralled by his process. I absolutely panicked as realization slammed into my mind as I spun, leaping towards the door. Too quickly, Erak’thile wrapped one massive hand around my arm and drug me to the opposite side of the room I thrashed and pulled, only resulting in cutting the skin on his claws. I screamed as I was lifted and slammed into the table, straps quickly fitted around my flailing limbs and middle.   
“Stop it, Human,” Erak’thile said as if chastising a dog, “Behave.” Successful in restraining me, he grabbed my cheek -claws wrapping around my lips and nose- and forced it against the table, turned towards the furnace. I screamed against his hand when I saw the demon pull out the metal pieces, now red hot and glowing. I twisted and thrashed, feeling that my left leg was looser than anything else. Desperate, I pulled as the demon cam closer, the glowing metal dancing around him in the air. He stopped close, planting one claw on my chest to steady my fighting. The leather strap suddenly gave way with a snap, and I pulled my leg close before planting my foot square in his chest, pushing with everything I had. He fell backward and smacked against the ground, yelling as he did. With his free hand, Erak’thile repositioned himself and grabbed a hold of my thigh before forcing it back down, holding it in place.

“Do it again and I’ll cut it off.”

I don’t know which one was speaking but I still struggled, biting against Erak’thile as he squeezed my face. Preoccupied with that, I wasn’t prepared when the burning pain suddenly flared on my skin. I screamed, the pressure got harder and the pain got worse. I could smell burning flesh and hair as I twisted, but the metal pieces twisted with me. I was unable to knock them off or lose. After what felt like forever, the pressure stopped and I heard metal clatter against the floor, but the pain continued. It felt as if it was drilling through my skin, straight to the bone, where it flared, and drained to my chest and skull. 

A hand pressed against the fresh wounds and I bit down hard, tasting blood. The pain briefly became hot, and then lessened as it felt like ice was being applied. It stayed that way even as the hand was removed. I kicked once more and then stilled, exhausted from the fight. The pain was a dull throb now as I blinked away tears I hadn’t realized had formed. 

Erak’thile released me, as the other demon spoke, “She bit you? Should I remove her teeth as well?” I tensed and prepared to start fighting again, but Erak’thile began removing the straps, “Not today.”

“You better get that one trained, or is Asmond’dia doing it himself?” The smaller demon began walking back towards his forge.

“Asmond will do it himself,” He looked down at me, “Get up, human.”

“Fuck you,” I spat back, struggling to steady my breathing. In response, Erak’thile shoved me off the table like a cat would swat a vase. I hit the hard ground and groaned.

The metal-bending demon snorted in the background, “Where did he find this one?”

“Earth. Fresh pick.”

I braced myself against the table, pulling myself up. Only to slip back down as I put too much pressure on the fresh burned side of my body, shouting out in pain as I fell. Erak’thile offered no help, but I managed to stand despite myself. He turned then, walking away. I debated not to follow him, but did in the end, not wanting to be lost in a different world without protection. Even if that protection was him, and even if the wicked branding was supposed to help.

  
  


I was led up another set of stairs, into a wide wing of the building. Up another set of stairs, Erak’thile stopped at a door. It was intricately carved, made from the same beautiful white marble, accented with black edges on the designs. It creaked open on its own, opening into what appeared to be a smaller (yet still big) apartment like attachment.   
“Stay here,” He said in a dismissive tone, turning away to leave.

“You’re not staying?” I hurriedly asked, uneasy to be left alone.  
“Do you want me to?” He snarled back. I quickly shook my head before sliding past him and into the room, the door shut without another word. Maybe being alone wouldn’t be worse than being with him. 

I glanced around nervously, jumping when torches suddenly flared to life, as if activated by my presence. They produced a blue flame, casting everything into a fine mist of the same color. The walls were the same style of the carved stone, but instead were flat with designs on the borders. The floor was bare except for furred skins that were occasionally placed around.

Across the room, a large shelf held various books, none of which I could read, I assumed. I’d have to check them out later. Next to the shelf was a small table and an overstuffed chair, the sidings looked to be metal instead of wood. I came closer to it, the fabric was a midnight blue, a small curly pattern flowed over it, colored slightly darker. The metal was black, and when I touched it, it was warm, as if producing its own heat. I wondered if it was the same material as Asmonds odd chest. 

Sitting down, I smiled at the comfort and warmth. I took the time to glance down at my leg, removing the fabric. It still seemed puffy at the edges, the skin there was still red. But the wound itself was closed. Come to think of it, my chest hurt less than when it did before. I didn’t know what caused these odd effects, but I sure was thankful. I stood back up -forgetting the bloodied shirt- and went to the bookshelf, skimming over the books with my finger. 

“What the hell…” I muttered, pulling one out, I recognized it immediately, Dante’s Inferno. What a… fitting book to find here. I thumbed through the pages, noting how old they seemed, it appeared to be handwritten, but it was English, there’s no way it was an original. Maybe it was an authentic rewrite from a scribe? I’d have to ask Asmond, I decided as I put it back where I had found it. As I did, though, I felt a pang in my chest. I missed the book shop, I missed the customers, I missed the smell of the dusty novels, the forgotten comics. It hurt, even more, to know that most of those people were dead, or suffering out there like I had been. I wondered then if Jason and dad were still alive, I prayed they were. Prayed. Some fat shit that turned out to be.

Scoffing, I grabbed another book and flipped through, finding pictures here and there. It appeared to be a field guide of sorts, pictures of demons accompanied by walls of text. I recognized some, but most were unknown to me, and frankly, horrific to look at. When I found a picture of a beast that was entirely inside out, I decided that was enough and hastily put it back.

Standing back up, I glanced around. There were openings that led to other rooms, some had shut doors, some were just archways. The whole place seemed like a studio apartment, a room inside rooms. I decided to avoid the shut doors, instead of heading towards the arches and openings. 

I followed one, finding a chamber that held a rack of weapons. Some were metal, but some seemed to just be staffs, but I knew they were surely able to be activated in some way. On a table near the center, I saw Asmonds ax, along with a few other things, like pieces of armor, and this odd circular object that looked like a large coin. 

Curious, I came forward and picked it up. Circled around it were thinly carved runes and symbols. The center depicted a drawing of a dog, bearing fangs and closed eyes. I traced its shape, it fit in the palm of my hand, feeling light and heavy at the same time. I heard something in the background, a faint… whispering. I turned and saw nothing, but when I looked back at the coin, I gasped in shock. 

The eyes were open now, a steady green glow showed through. Then, all at once, cracks erupted across the surface and it exploded. I screamed and fell backward, wincing as pain jolted into the burns on my chest. I looked up, the shards of the coin were in the air, a green smoke, like fire, wrapped around and spread out. I watched as it danced before slamming into the ground, taking shape. Before my eyes, a large paw stepped out of the cloud, followed by a solid body, I gaped as a massive wolf corporatized, the smoke trailing off of him as if he was made of fire. 

It snarled and lowered its head, bearing massive teeth and dripping, green-tinted spit. It stopped just in front of me, its gaze glared into my own eyes, then it slowly shut its mouth, still snarling, as it laid down in front of me. We stared at each other, I held my breath, waiting for it to jump back up and rip out my throat. But he didn’t, he only growled when I moved and stayed where he was, eyes never leaving me. After a moment, the wolf disappeared in a cloud of smoke. When it all dissipated the coin laid whole on the ground, smoke sputtering from it. Carefully I picked it up, returning it back to the table as carefully as I could. That was an… odd experience. 

I quickly exited the room, instead opting to find a bathroom, if one was here. Evidently, it took me three tries, and it ended up being behind a door But, when I did find it, I was so grateful. The floor was that same heated metal, I eyed the shower, deciding I’d have to come back once I had some form of clean clothes. Instead, I opted to wash up in the sink. There was a wide mirror, and for the first time in months, I saw myself. And fuck, I looked  _ rough _ . The branding was placed in the spot between my shoulder and neck, clearly left in view. I touched it and winced. It didn’t look too horrible, it did resemble a tattoo of sorts. But if it provided some form of safety in this hellscape, then maybe it wasn’t so bad to have it. 

Sighing, I turned the water on, happy to find it was cold and clear. Slowly, I splashed it on my face, rubbed my arms, and smoothed my hair the best I could. Clearly, I needed a haircut, too, or a hairbrush, it was left tied up for far too long. With another sigh, I turned away, deciding that I was clean enough, and would return back to the chair, maybe reading would calm my nerves. Not that I had a big selection available, though.

I left the bathroom, tying my hair back up, and entering the mane room. Then, I stopped in my tracks, eyes wide. A woman stood there, a human woman. She was looking around, and when she saw me, her eyes lit up.

“Hi,” She greeted, brushing her blond hair out of her face, ”I was sent by the Archvile, I’m here to get you fitted for clothes.” I almost wanted to cry at the mention of new clothes but stayed where I was in my distrust. Her branding was in the same place as mine, if not more so on her shoulder, all the runes were different, however. Specifically, none of them resembles Asmonds sigil.

Her eyes lingered on my mark, “I was a bit surprised when he sent me to the Marauders chambers… they don’t typically take subjects, well, not Mr. Ahgreal at least.”  
“So I heard,” I replied dryly, looking her over. She was on the thinner side, with long blond hair that had frayed edges. Almost like it was burnt on the ends. Her eyes were striking and seemed too big for her face, but it only added to her beauty. She wore a blue-toned dress with white endings, black stockings covered her legs. Simple black shoes topped her outfit. 

She bowed elegantly, “My name is Kaity Wrentworth, I work down in the kitchen, but fetch things for the masters occasionally”

“Masters?” I frowned, so they really were all slaves then. 

“Oh yes, I do not have a specific master like you, but I serve them all the same. Come, I’ll bring you to the wardrobe room, we’ll see Drau’drin, she’ll help us get you fitted.” 

Taking slow steps, I followed her out the door, she continued to talk, “I’m glad your mark is healing nicely, it’s simply the worse when they get infected and scar all ugly like. Sometimes, you even have to have them redone. What’s your name?”

I stuttered, unable to quite keep up with her ramblings, “Oh, um, my name's Margaret, but I go by Margo.” 

“Oh gosh,” Kaity fawned, “I’ve always loved the name Margaret, it reminds me of marigolds. Well, how long have you been here, Margo?” 

I glanced at her, “This is my first day being in here-”

“Oh! So you’ve been to earth? What is it like?”

“It’s, uh, not fallen yet, but I think Asmond said it had reached, oh, what did he say, twenty-five or fifty percent consumption? I’m not sure what that means… but I can only imagine the state it’s in now. ”   
Kaity gave me an odd look, “You mean Master Ahgreal?” 

I nodded. She continued, “Okay, tell me more, how’d you survive?”

“Oh, well, I was with my group for a while, we stayed in the woods, away from the mayhem. And then Asmond- uh, Mr. Ahgreal, found me, and…” I trailed off. 

“That’s okay, you don’t have to tell me how it went. I know sometimes it can be-” she hesitated before continuing, “Traumatic.”

I didn’t know what she meant but didn’t want to ask. As we walked down the hall, a silence lulled into us.

After a moment, she hummed and twirled, “You get used to it, it's not that bad. Anyways, I overheard one of the Deag saying they had trouble with Earth, but that they had a new plan to take it down.” I flinched at her nonchalant attitude, wondering how she could sound so casual about this. 

“The Deag?”

“Mhm,” she hummed, “They’re the high priests, they commune with the higher-ups, and the lower downs follow them.”

I frowned, “Their word is law, then?”

Kaity matched my look, “I guess you could say that. But they don’t stay here much, they mostly come to plan their sieges and wars. The only one who really stays is Deag Grav. Even then, I’ve rarely seen him. Even rarer have I been graced by his commands.”

I, uh, did not want to know what that meant, and didn’t ask.  
“Hey, Kaity? How long have you been here?” I finally asked, eager to change the topic.

She flashed a proud smile, “Sixteen years, I’ve been here since I was seven,” Once more, it was as if what she was saying was normal. Well, I suppose if she had been here that long, surely this  _ was _ normal for her.

My eyes widened at her response, but before I could ask any more questions, she descended some stairs quicker than I could follow, almost dancing down them. After a few more turns, she bumped open a door with her hip.

She bowed once more, “Master Drau’drin, I brought the new girl, she needs to be fitted for her outfit. I have been sent by the Archvile.”

Drau’drin turned out to be a small-sized demon with multiple arms, each tipped with carefully clipped claws. Her skin was a grey color, her eyes were almost solid blue, but a ring of red appeared to be her pupil. 

She looked me up and down, walking around and holding my arms up.   
Drau’drin leaned forward and peered at my branding, making a clicking noise as she did

She appeared to have no mouth, yet I could hear her voice, “You’re an  _ Ant’wren  _ servant, and you belong to- oh, the Marauders.” Her voice changed near the end, as if she had tasted something bad.

“Only one,” Kaity quickly corrected, “Master Drau’drin, she belongs to Master Ahgreal, I was sent directly to his room to fetch her.” 

Drau’drin laid one of her hands on my shoulder, “Thank goodness you only have to deal with one of those brutes, that would simply be too much for a single lady.” I didn’t ask her what she meant, and I frankly didn’t want to find out.

Drau’drin began prodding around my body, touching every spot she thought important. The whole ordeal was awkward for me, I stood with a red face. Unsure of what to say, I simply said nothing.

Standing, she clapped with two sets of arms, “Okay! I’ll fetch a standard  _ Ant’wren  _ service wear. I'm sure you’ll find it-” Her face stretched in a mock smile, “Comfortable. But for now, you’ll need to be cleaned and brushed. Kaity, take her to the bathing room, and fix that hair.”

“Thank you, Master Drau’drin, should I take her to the public room?”

“Goodness, no! Bring her to the westward bath, the private one.”

Kaity thanked her again before grabbing my arm and leading me away, she beamed and gasped out, “Wow! The private bath!” 

I gave her a glance, “That’s good then?”

“Oh yes, common Ant’wren servants aren’t permitted. I think she’s sent you there because you belong to such a high-rank officer, one of the  _ Deags Marauders _ at that! Surely she wants you to look your best for one of Hell’s  _ finest _ warriors.” 

“O-oh, uh-huh,” I thought back to the battle with the Slayer, and how he had seemed afraid. But maybe it was for a different reason.

“I, um, have some questions,” I told her as she bumped open a second door after we went further down the staircase, into a long branch of the structure. Surely, we were somewhere underground.

When the door swung open, I was immediately assaulted with the strong smell of roses mixed with jasmine. The scents didn't mingle, but were one of itself. The floor had the same comfortable heated metal, this being an ivory color, and the bathtub was absolutely massive. Kaity immediately went over and began turning knobs, picking up various bottles of liquid and pouring them in, “What questions?” she finally replied.   
“What’s an Ant-ren servant?” I asked, afraid I already knew the answer based on context clues.

“Oh, a true honor,” Kaity said, before quickly adding, “Well, for the most part. An Ant’wren serves the master in whichever way they please. Ones of the higher status are treated much better than the lower ranks, sometimes they are treasured breeders-”

I cut her off with wide eyes, “You mean a sex slave?”

She stuttered in her actions, as if unnerved by my outburst, “If-If they so please.” 

Kaity turned away and began grabbing bottles off of a shelf, “Oh, but it’s really not that bad, I was almost an Ant’wren, but I was born unfertile.”

“How is that not that bad?” I asked, my voice raising ever so slightly. 

“Well,” she turned away, her voice sounded dry now, “There are often much worse positions than an Ant’wren. Breeders are treasured, and-”

“Rape is  _ not _ being treasured.”

Kaity didn’t reply at first, but eventually, she repeated, “There are worse positions, It’s… not always like that anyways. But I do have to say, if I may speak honestly,” I nodded for her to continue.

The woman leaned in, whispering as if what she was saying was hearsay. “The Marauders are feared here, among us servants, the others are not too kind. It is a godsend that you were not gifted to them all.”

I looked away, suddenly very, very afraid, “And what about Asmond?”

“Mr. Ahgeal? Oh, well, I’ve been permitted to see him in the fighting pit, and from what I seen, he bests the other of his rank. But he treats us better than most, but the bar isn’t that high to begin with. Have you met with him?”   
I nodded, “On Earth. He, um, tried to kill me at first, but then he didn’t?” 

She covered her mouth, “Do you know why?”

“I picked his ax up-” her eyes widened, “-and turned it on?” 

Kaity frowned, “You touched his weapon, woah, that's… interesting. And you activated it, I’ve heard only…. Never mind. Tell me everything, but let's get you in the bath first.” She leaned and started turning handles, water suddenly flowed from the spigot.

Out of everything today, stripping in front of a girl I just met wasn’t the worst thing, and the bath was easily the best thing I’ve ever felt. The water was warm, it buzzed on my skin in a comforting way, any pain has eased almost instantly. 

“Well,” I said and began my story. 

  
“Wait wait wait, you talked to a Tyrant? And… and a Hell Knight?” 

I nodded, “The hell knight didn’t talk back, but I named him Pebbles because he gave me some rocks. There in my pants over there, I can show you when I’m done.” She nodded and handed me a bottle, “Shampoo,” she said. I thanked her and immediately started scrubbing, easing out the tangles the best I could.

I kept going in my story, pausing only to carefully undo the massive tangles as I came to them.

“-And then he kissed me, and that was weird. The weirder part was that I kissed him back.” I debated whether to tell her the rest, instead deciding to skip over a few parts.   
“We got separated after the Slayer came.” Immediately, she froze, dropping a bottle she was holding. She splashed into the water, she made no move to grab it.  
“You… met the Slayer?” She asked in a low voice, before leaning in close, “We’re not permitted to speak of him, the Masters get… upset with us, if we do.”

“Thank you for telling me, I'll be careful when I talk to others.”

“Best not to talk about it at all, just in case. But… What was he like? I’ve heard stories, I’ve seen the artwork.”

“He was fucking terrifying,” I honestly told her, “I thought the demons were scary, but he,” I paused, fumbling over my words, “He was an absolute monster.”  
Neither of us spoke for the rest of the bath, but eventually, she gasped, “Oh, I almost forgot! One of the human girls convinced Master Graund.” 

She stood and opened a drawer of a nearby table, shuffling through it. Then, she turned and held up a shaving razor, displaying it was as if it was gold. And gold it was, as I reached out in a ‘gimmie gimmie’ fashion And gimmie she did. It was cold in my hands, apparently entirely made out of metal, but the edges resembled an Earth razor near perfectly, if not a little too thick. 

Kaity grabbed bottles to put up as I began to shave _everything_.   
“I’d give you more privacy, but Drau’drin makes it very clear that it is important not to leave new servants alone. I think it’s fun to have girl time anyway.”

I hummed in agreement, starting on my legs, “Tell me more about you, Kaity, I know you've been here for sixteen years, but nothing else.”

She sighed wistfully, sitting down next to the basin, “I grew up on a farm, I had my own pony and everything. I don’t remember much, though. I was taken when my brother opened a portal. I can’t remember how he did it, though. I was afraid at first, but the other girls took care of me, I worked in the kitchen. But when I reached maturity, I was evaluated to be a breeder by one of the officers, he wasn’t a Marauder or anything though. That’s when they learned I was infertile, and I was instead moved to my new position. I mainly help in the kitchen still and clean in the main barracks and hall.”

I finished soon after her story, letting her know that I was done, she grinned and brought me a robe-like cover, “I’ll fix up your hair now, how do you like it?”

“Short, maybe, just above my shoulders.” Dealing with that much hair over that much time, was hell, frankly.

“Great, it’s always good to have the mark as visible as possible. I’ll get the scissors.” 

After Kaity was done, she brought me a handheld mirror, I grinned, telling her how gorgeous it was. The ends curled slightly with the loss of weight and bounced when I moved. My hair framed my face in such a way that reminded me that I was human, as odd as that sounded. Living like I did left me feeling like an animal, for the first time since it started, I felt beautiful again. The freckles that dotted my face showed through, no longer looking like specks of dirt among more dirt. Kaity also retrieved a bottle of lotion to help my skin and the burn. It was in a glass bottle, unlabeled, with a twisting cap. The lotion itself was light pink and thick, it smelled lovely, but I couldn’t place the scent.

“Okay, Margo, let's take you back to Drau’drin for your clothes, I’m sure she has them prepared already.”

Kaity walked back to a drawer across the room, opened a side cabinet, and pulled out a bag. 

“For your things,” she explained. I thanked her and hastily put my clothes into it. It was a soft brown color, made of thick, braided thread. I paused before digging the jeans back out, taking out the small rocks. I showed them to her, she smiled, commenting on how interesting it was for a Hell Knight to retrieve things like that.

After this, I followed her back to Drau’drin’s room, who was busy holding various garments. 

“I decided purple would be the best. On account of your owner and his, and therefore your, class.” Draj’drin murmured without looking up.

As much as I appreciated a bath and new clothes, I really hated this whole ownership thing. But if getting branded and playing dog kept me from a horrible death, I didn’t quite mind. I sure as hell wasn’t calling him master, though. 

“Thank you,” I said instead. 

“Come here, human.” 

I did, only to immediately have my robe discarded. I was uncomfortable, but didn’t know how shameful I could be in front of a demon woman, surely this was just how it worked anyways. Drau’drin draped purple fabric across my body, sowing it as she went. I waited and moved as she needed. When she finished, I looked down and frowned, “Is… this it? I’m grateful, but it’s quite revealing.”

The demon smiled, or I think she did, her face contorted in an odd way, “Yes, this is standard. It will please Ahgreal, yes?”  
I hope not.

“It’s stunning, Margo, I’m sure Master Ahgreal will be satisfied.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he will be. Thank you Drau’drin.” 

Her smile dropped, and Kaity quickly elbowed my side, leaning in to whisper. 

“Master Drau’drin,” I repeated with a grimace, “I appreciate the new clothes.”

Drau’drin watched me for a moment, before nodding for us to leave, she turned, muttering under her breath, “Ahgreal will train that one.” Then, she turned back to her other crafts. 

Kaity escorted me back to Asmond’s room, “There should be a mirror, that way you can see your outfit better, it’s really not as bad as you think. I’ll leave you with it then, when dinner is made in the servant quarters, I’ll bring you down to eat.”

“Wait!” I tugged her sleeve before she left, “Do you have any books I can read?” 

Kaity frowned, crinkling her nose slightly, “Servants aren’t permitted to read.”

“W-why?” I asked in disbelief, surely she was kidding.

“There are more important things to do than read,” then, she glanced around and leaned in, whispering as if she was relaying a secret, “Knowledge breeds uprising. The Masters will not permit it.” She stood back up, said her goodbyes, and left. The door shut with a heavy click, and I was left unnerved by Kaity’s sudden change in attitude. Not knowing what else to do, I turned and went for the bathroom. 

I viewed myself in the mirror, not quite hating what I was wearing, but not quite liking it either. The purple fabric bunched on my breasts, holding them snug and keeping them well covered. A set of soft rope, a deep blue color, attached to each side, wrapping around my neck to hold it in place. The rest of it acted much like a bikini top, more blue rope went across my back in a single line to keep it taught. My stomach and back were entirely exposed, I shivered, it was cold in here. The bottoms were much better, but still not good. The cloth was fitted tight around my hips, hugging the thighs and then loosening at the knees, where it stopped. On the left leg, the cloth split, exposing the skin. On the hip, it clasped together with this black metal piece, another rune was drawn onto it, matching one of the small ones on my chest. It was an odd, sharply angled J, with a strike through the center. Under that, the more silky feeling rope ran about a third of the way down my thigh, providing minimal cover. On the bottom, another set of about three connected the two pieces, the same rich blue. Despite having gone through the literal apocalypse, I didn’t look half bad. I still maintained a bit of my weight, muscle rounding out the most of the lost fat. Smiling, I brushed my hair behind my ear, revealing the branding further. However, what caught my attention was my bare neck, and my smile dropped. It had been in my bag, hadn’t it? When I lost it, no, when it was taken? Or was it, had Asmond ever grabbed it, surely not, he had no reason too. Panic swelled in my chest, I turned away and braced myself, my chest constricted painfully. Gasping, I willed myself to calm down. It’s not the objects that hold value, it’s the memories attached, that's what dad always told me. But he hadn’t been talking about mom’s wedding band. But then again, I still had the memories, I still  _ remembered _ it. That was enough, it had to be. I turned away from my reflection, this wasn’t my fault, I couldn’t blame myself. I closed my eyes, pushing a hand against my chest. After a moment, I righted myself, wiped my eyes, and turned to leave.

Walking through the hallway, I opened the closest door to the one I came out of. Nudging it open, it appeared to be a study. There was a large desk on one side, the color of mahogany wood, another stuffed chair sat at it. There were papers strewn on the desk, paper maybe. From where I was standing, I could see that some of them had pictures, diagrams, and notes. On one side of the room, there was another small shelf with thick books, there were a few statues dotted around, I couldn’t see the details. On the opposite side, there was a massive map on the wall. Topography lines were etched lightly in it, buildings had been inked in, and there were columns of small notes, with lines pointed to different areas. 

I shut the door carefully, maybe I could snoop later. There was only one door left, and with process of elimination, this must be the bedroom. Shouldering it open, I was relieved to find that I was right. I walked in without bothering with the door, letting it creak shut behind me. I’m sure Asmond wouldn’t mind if I slept on his bed. Seeing how I was  _ branded _ as his, I think I deserved a good nap. This bed was even bigger than the one that had been set up in his tent. The blanket was thick and heavy, colored a deeper purple than my outfit, bordered by a rich crimson. The wooden boarding was black, like everything else. The headboard and sidings were cut and carved into, the color underneath the fine finish was a slightly lighter, grey color. It was slightly unnerving how it seemed normal like the whole room was plucked straight from earth.

Curious, I crawled on the bed and peered closer at the scenes depicted. Tracing the carvings, I recognized a Hell Knight. Here and there, I saw three different carvings of wolves, all in various stages of growth. The smallest one was done the poorest, while the largest -and probably the newest- was finely done.

I found a fourth one, then, and frowned. It was standing up but had no head, drops of blood scattered from the wound. Some of the drawings were worse than others, and appeared old, while others were beautiful and looked newer. I assumed this was the evolution of the carver's skills.

In the center, there was a man. This one was crude as well, adorned in simple armor and holding an ax. I traced the face with a frown, it had been scratched out, a further gouge went across the chest, where a small circle was. The heart maybe. Contrasting the slashes, carefully drawn horns were on top of the gouged face.

Maybe I would ask Asmond about this, I wanted to know what secrets and stories it held, and wondered if he carved them himself. Surely he did, it was obvious. 

I didn’t hear the door swing open, and a voice cut through the silence, “What the hell.”

I jumped and turned, Asmond stood in the doorway. Smiling in relief, I moved to face him fully, glad to no longer be alone. I smiled then and turned fully, excited to not be alone anymore. His eyes went from my face to the outfit, lingering on my midsection and bare legs. 

I opened my mouth to say something but was left silent when I saw him fully. 

He had a large scar running across his chest, it was thick and raised with tissue. The black veins seemed to grow farther up his body, now it climbed his neck and danced on his jaw; exposed without his mask. The top of one of his horns was chipped, a crack ran all the way down it, exposing the inside only slightly. He had no armor save for his boots, his belt and the metal plates were missing as well, he was only garbed in his pants, which looked like some kind of reinforced leather. His arms were exposed fully, revealing a strange cut that wrapped all the way around, as if it had been reattached. 

I raised my gaze, shocked. Asmond met my own, his eyes softened, and then they went down to my chest. His lips twisted in disgust, his eyes narrowed, seeing the branding for the first time. He stalked forward and I shrunk back, hitting the headboard with a dull thunk. This wasn’t exactly the reunion I expected.

Asmond snarled in a rage, “Who the  _ fuck _ did that to you?” He pointed an accusing finger at it.

“I-I don’t know- The scar?”

“Who did that to you!?” He roared again. 

“I don't know!” I yelled back, “Erak’thile-” 

That was all he needed, he turned without another word. I scrambled to follow, stumbling off of the bed as I did. I had to run to catch up to his long strides, full of intent.

“Wait, Asmond!” I paused some ways from him, afraid to get too close. He stopped and turned towards me, taking a step forward, and then he turned again and went for the door, pausing.

“Please,” I begged, “I-I don’t know what’s going on. I’m… afraid, please don’t go.” Asmond didn’t move, his hand was outstretched for the door, but he lowered it. He turned his head, his eyes were sad and tired. The sudden change in his demeanor left me uneasy. He frowned, speaking quietly, “This was not supposed to happen.”

“What was supposed to happen then?” Asmond shook his head, walking past where I stood, back towards his bedroom, “I… I need sleep. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that,  _ Voulpgah. _ ”

He fully turned then, moving past where I stood carefully, and going back to the bedroom. I followed, unsure of what else to do.

“There’s only one bed,” he said, “I’m sure you’re tired, too. 

After everything, sharing a bed certainly wasn’t the worst thing, but I didn’t respond, following him with quiet steps. Asmond was already on it when I got there, laying on his stomach with his head turned at an odd angle on account of his horns. He was staring at the far wall, I followed his gaze and found pictures tacked on. Drawings, it looked like, depicting more scenes of battle. A spot was missing in the center, another on the corner. 

I stepped quietly, before carefully sitting on the edge of the bed, “I hope you’re not mad at me.” He didn’t reply, so I continued, “I tried to stop them, but he… held me down. He did say it would protect me, though. From… the environment and other things. Was he lying?”

Asmond exhaled quietly, “He wasn’t lying, but you were never supposed to get the mark, not that one. There are similar runes, runes that don’t hurt. Runes that… fuck. I can’t believe he did this.” Asmond pulled himself up, “Show me.”

I did, turning around and sitting on my legs, I didn’t need to move the shirt, it was well exposed already. 

“Spiteful coward,” Asmond hissed.   
“Was he being spiteful to me or you?”

He huffed, his eyes rolling to glare at the ceiling, “Me.”

“Then, um, can you tell me what they mean?” 

He touched the left top one, “This protects you from the environment, the air is toxic for humans.” He touched the right top, “This gives you an aura, the savage, lesser beings know not to harm you. This,” he touched the bottom left, “Fortifies your body, makes it more, well… less susceptible to harm. It also-” he stopped. 

“It also what?”

“You can’t reproduce,” He muttered, leaning back with squinted eyes.

“What about this one,” I quickly asked, pointing at the last one. Asmond scowled at it, “Your rank. It means you’re a-”

“An Ant’wren?” I asked. 

He nodded, “Do you know what this means?”

“I’ve been told, I’ve also been given this outfit. Drau’drin said it would be very fitting.”

“Drau’drin does her job,” He smiled, “It doesn’t look that bad on you.”

Rolling my eyes, I replied, “Yeah I look fantastic and I’m cold.”

“I don’t know how cold you can be in hell, but I suppose it is cold in here. I can get you something to cover up with.”

“I’d appreciate that,” I smiled back.

“This middle one,” Asmond carefully traced the largest rune, “Is the sigil of my people, the symbol of the Seninals. But on you, like this, it means…” he trailed off, I didn’t know if he was unsure on how to tell me, or didn’t want to.

“That I belong to you,” I finished. He nodded and laid back down on his back, staring at the ceiling. At least he hadn’t turned away this time.  
“How does that… affect things?” 

He laughed with no humor, “Well, other demons won’t touch you. The air won’t hurt you. As long as you’re in hell, you’ll be seen as a slave and treated as one by others. At least Erak’thile didn’t see it fit to put you on the  _ lowest _ rank, that would be bad for both of us. But I’ll keep you away from that until we can leave, which should be soon.”

“Can you tell me what happened?” 

Asmond turned his back to me, again, “Not now, I’m tired. I’ll tell you everything later. But the day is long, it’s time to rest now.” I nodded in agreement, pulling the blanket back as far as I could with him laying on it. Then I curled up with my knees close to my chest, facing away from him. I pulled the pillow close, holding it tight. I laid there for some time, waiting for sleep to take me, but it didn’t.

“Asmond?” I finally asked, he didn’t reply, but I continued, “Am I safe here?”

“You’re safe with me.” That was all he said. With that, I curled farther into the blankets, closer to him, and sunk into the black. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference drawing for Margo's new outfit, here on my Instagram. I hope to be uploading more references, I just wish I could get them higher quality pictures.  
> Linked here: https://www.instagram.com/p/CIwmeMglxty/?igshid=5neofijr18ks


	12. Flashes of Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vibe check.

I woke up to the bed rocking my body as it moved. I opened my eyes, seeing the room was dark now, the window across the room let in minimal light. The bed shifted again as a weight left the side, causing it to spring back into shape. I turned to see Asmond standing near the window, his hand on the sill. Gazing out with his back to me

I wasn’t sure what I would say to him, and further didn’t want to bother him, choosing to remain quiet. He seemed different somehow, the air around him seemed thicker. The way he moved was stiffer than before, his voice held a hint of gravel when he spoke.

Asmond stared out the window for some time, before his eyes slipped down to my reflection in the corner. He turned then as if remembering my presence. Meeting my eyes properly, he still didn’t speak. Instead, he returned to the bed, sitting with his back to me. 

Asmond had new wounds that decorated his greying skin, already scared over. There were a few scattered around that looked like bullet holes, along with smaller cuts and one large slash down his right shoulder blade.

“Can I ask questions?” I whispered slowly, not wanting to startle him. It felt silly treating him like this, but a part of him still seemed human to me, as if he was a man in a costume. I was afraid asking would hurt, afraid it could cause another attack. Asmond’s thick horns shook as he nodded, his head turned ever so slightly, where I could barely see his red eye. I sat up then, the blanket pooling around my waist, “What happened out there?”

He turned away again, I was afraid he wouldn’t answer, but he did, “A battle.”

I waited, wondering if he was simply going to leave it at that, but he continued, “The Slayer had come, and he brought death in his wake. I wasn’t able to bring him down, but I hadn’t thought I could, to begin with. Maybe that is where I went wrong. A warrior’s power is as strong as his confidence,” he paused, letting out a weighted breath, “The Slayer took down almost everybody. The Sisters got out, I told Pebbles to find help. We were all completely unprepared, caught off guard.” He stopped then, lifting his arm. I could see fully, from my angle behind him, that the scar did wrap all the way around like I had thought, placed in the middle of his upper-arm

“He stole my fucking arm,” Asmond said spitefully, “Combatidly it made sense, disabled my shield, and my ability. But I think it was a dick move.”

I smiled at his small jab, “Did you take his back?”

“Eventually I did. But in a panic, I threw it at him.”

“Wait,” I moved closer, “You’re arm. You’re  _ severed _ arm.” He hummed, flashing a toothy grin, “Caught him off guard enough for me to land a shot with my ax. After that he started to back off, I could hear his suit making noises and going haywire. I must’ve hit some kind of system. At one point, we completely lost him, it isn’t like the Slayer to flee, but he isn’t a fool. During this, I managed to find Erak’thile, telling him to get you out of here. But looking back at it, I probably should have gotten someone else.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” I tried brushing it off, but saw his frown and continued, “The whole being taken from one place to another was pretty awful though.”

“At least it’s quick, it gets easier after the first few times, though.”

“I’ll take your word for it, but seemed like it took forever to me.”

“Pain will do that.” 

I paused for a while, looking away from Asmond. I decided I’d tell him about the abyss and the woman later, but not now. It was all too much now. Instead, I restlessly shuffled where I sat, tugging the blankets up closer to my stomach, “Hey, Asmond?” He murmured a response, so I went on, “You know how you said the Slayer left after a while? I don’t know if he was looking for.. or-or following me. But I was running…” I turned around, seeing Asmond staring intently, twisted to face me as much as he could, “and I saw a red light, and I thought it was you. But it wasn’t.”

Asmond didn’t say anything, looking up and down my skin, as if searching for any surprise wounds.

“What happened?” He asked carefully.

“I-I don’t know… he didn’t talk. But I asked him questions and he shook his head.”

“What did he ask you?”

My skin crawled as I recalled what had happened, “I asked to leave.”

Asmond made a sound similar to a growl, scrambling to his feet and walking to my side of the bed. He stopped in front of me and kneeled, close so that he could look directly into my eyes, accusation heavy in his questions, “Did he hurt you? He tried to kill you?”

His clawed hand reached forward to hold my cheek, gently turning it to the side to inspect my skin there before moving down to my arms, frantic in his actions despite already knowing I was okay.

“No, Asmond,” I stuttered, shakily grabbing his hands to still his movements, “He didn’t hurt me. He… I don’t know what he was doing. But he didn’t act like he was going to hurt me.”

Asmond gave me a confused look, his horns tilted as his head did, “Then what was he doing?”

“He just kept walking closer, slowly. Like he was prepared to chase me down if I bolted.”

“And you didn’t?” He carefully responded.

I laughed breathlessly, “Yes I tried. But I fell during the panic, cut myself real bad. See, I got this-oh?” I had lifted my leg to show Asmond the healing cut, but a thin scar instead snaked up the skin, a pale color compared to the rest, flat and smooth. Curious, I pulled my leg closer, “I got this, like yesterday night.”

Asmond reach forward and replaced my hands with his own, inspecting the scar close, “The runes, of course,”

“But I started feeling different as soon as I left the portal, it got all numb and stuff, and it was like the healing was faster.”

“Things work strangely in hell, beings react in different ways with the realm. Full-blooded sentinels can be affected in different ways. One man can be weaker in this realm, a woman could be completely unaffected. Sometimes, rarely, one could feel stronger. But I haven’t heard of a healing power like this.”

I hummed in agreement, “I think I understand. Maybe it’s because I have human blood, too?”

“It’s possible. I know someone we can talk to, but not now.”

I thought back to the chaos of that night, thinking of anything I had missed, “Oh, Asmond, do you know what happened to the horses?”

The demon gave me an odd look before making a sound of understanding, “Oh, the Helleque. I sent some of my brethren to find them, I don’t know how successful they’ll be. If they’re unable to find them, they’ll come back on their own. Here, Helleque are also known as Realm Walkers, they have an innate ability to come and go as they please between realms.”

I gave him a look, “You didn’t mention that.”

“I didn’t want to overwhelm you, they’re already scary enough. The fear of ending up in hell is something else entirely. But they don’t usually make this decision, in the wild, the Elder Master makes this call, the underlings follow. Typically, they do this only in their home realm, but it isn’t unknown for a group to gather elsewhere for some time. But they always return, it is their nature.”

I nodded, wondering if I actually understood or not, “So they’re okay then?”

“The Slayer has no need to attack Helleque, if that is what you’re asking, they are beneath him.” 

“What’s happening now, then?”

Asmond stood from his place on the floor, “Now. I have business with Erak’Thile.” He started walking away, and I followed hastily, “Hold on, you’re just going to leave? Then what do I do?”

He grinned slyly, “I guess you’ll have to come with me.” Asmond shouldered open the door, walking down the hallway, and into another one. Now in the armory, He stopped at the table, looking around. He picked up pieces of armor, beginning to strap it on. 

“What are you doing?” I asked apprehensively. 

He turned with a grin, “He broke tradition. It’s the Owners decision on what to do with the Owned,” He gestured to the whole of me. 

My face twisted, “I am not your pet.” 

“According to Sentinel law, you are,” He said in a teasing manner, pulling the shoulder coverings up and looping the clasp tight. He pulled on his arm coverings, after strapping on the metallic chest piece, the center of it activated with a click, red light blinking on. Asmond grabbed his belt, clasped around it were the overlapping plates of metal, that fell like a skirt around his waist. While he continued to adjust and tighten his coverings, I went to his ax, examining it closer. It appeared like a bludgeoning club without the double-sided blade activated. The handle is made of interlocking vertebrae, a rough metal end to hold on to. The top was a skull with horns similar to Asmonds but curved out more like a bull. The teeth were shut tight, but I knew that the mouth would open, spitting out the blades like fire. 

“Pick it up,” He instructed, and I did. It was heavy in my hands, awkwardly too big. Any finesse I had shown that night were gone now, like when I had picked it up the day after. 

“Can you activate it?” He asked, leaning against the table while he faced me. I wiggled it a little, tried to feel some kind of vibrations, anything. But felt none. I looked at him, waiting for more instructions. 

Asmond shrugged, “Must be that human blood blocking it,” He took it from my hands, pulling himself to a proper fighting stance. The air felt more charged for a second before a warbling sound emanated from the weapon, and the jaw split open. In a flash of red, the double sides of the ax revealed themselves, heat spitting into the room. 

“How did you do it?” I asked, examining him closely, but seeing no visible change.

“It’s a feeling,” he explained, “Energy that flows like blood,” he tapped his chest, “Comes from the soul.” 

I frowned, “Demons have souls?”

“Demons have souls that have been crafted and changed, warped, but still intact. It’s how Spirits are born, their soul isn’t ready for the final death.” He explained.  
“And humans?” I asked.

He hummed, “Human souls are in the purest form, but that leaves them unable to control them. Demons are able to harness the power because it is warped, almost like it has been unlocked, but it is no longer pure. Tainted and manipulated.”

“Okay,” I squinted at him, “So my human blood blocks my ability to control my soul’s power willingly, but because I have Sentinel ancestry, I’m able to control a part of it? Unwillingly?”

Asmond grinned, “You’re understanding this better than I expected. Here, let’s try this.”

He relaxed his stance, standing normally, holding his ax out for me to take. I stared at it, unsure, before slipping my eyes to his. 

He smiled, “Trust me, it’ll be okay.”

I took a breath, wrapping my hand just below his, our skin just barely grazing each other. 

Gasping, my hand shook as I saw the red electricity dance on my skin, it traveled up my arm and seemed to seep into my shoulder blade. It didn’t hurt, but it was warm. 

“Trust me,” he repeated, pushing it closer to my body. I grabbed ahold of it with my other hand, above his this time. Red lightning danced and repeated the same process. I felt my heartbeat thrum harder, I could feel it in my veins, I could feel my lungs contracting as I breathed. Asmond removed one hand, the red light dimmed briefly, the blades wavered, and almost went out. He released the ax fully.

I could feel it fighting me, the power flooding my body was too much, it began to seep out. The mouth of the ax began to close, the teeth ground together as they began to shut. I grunted and closed my eyes, grinding my own teeth.

“Margo.”

I snapped my eyes open, arms shaking with the effort.

“Are you the  _ Voulpgah _ , or are you the  _ Fraen’zean _ ?” He challenged, his crimson eyes shining.

I breathed, “I am,” the ax jerked in my hold, I stumbled backward and caught myself. This was much different from that night, it was unnatural, it didn’t want to be with me. The energy, it wasn’t right. I gripped the handle tighter.

Gritting my teeth, I slid my foot back as I pulled my shoulders square, repeating the stance Asmond had taken. The ax shook before the jaw split open fully, returning to the bright redness, the arcing blades returned to their glory, “I am the wolf,” I yelled, “I am the  _ Fraen’zea-” _

The room thundered in a bright flash of red light, coming from the ax itself. I briefly flinched away from it but looked in awe as the symbols flickered.

The runes changed to something else entirely, the movement stopped, before it suddenly started flowing in the opposite direction, upwards. The electricity that crackled off of it began to burn like fire but felt like ice all at once. I shouted out in panic at the sudden pain, yet was unable to let go. The blade began to lose shape, emitting a deep rumbling sound as it did. And all of the light was gone. And then the room exploded into a brilliant red, grew to a blinding white that devoured every shape. The sound of thunder crashed within the confines of the walls. Suddenly, my feet left the ground and I was flying. I slammed into the wall, a crack was the last thing I heard. Pain was the last thing I felt.

Dust floated like fog throughout the room, the torches had been blown out. A ghostly green glow cast light onto the walls and nearby objects. I took a breath that turned into a shaky wheeze, when I tried to sit up, I could only gasp out in agony. A burning fire roared across my lower back, it spits up my spin, wrapped around my waist. I stopped moving and the pain became a thrum, still ever-present. The green light flickered and I heard wood clattering. I turned my head slowly, seeing the table nearby, laying on its side. There was stuff strew about, pieces of armor and weaponry. The green light danced closer, a clicking sound followed gently. A pair of blazing eyes came into view, followed by a snout and ears. The smoking wolf stared down at me, his jaw shut firmly. His head lowered and he sniffed my face before a tongue lolled out and slid across my face. It was dry and smelled like dirt. 

He turned then and trotted off, the light fading. I heard more clattering and a low groan. I lifted my head as much as I could and could see Asmond stumbling to stand. Clumps of wood and dust fell off of him as he did, encircling his frame like dancing fireflies. I coughed hard, wincing and crying out, copper flooding my mouth.

“-ere she at?” He slurred, looking down at the wolf. The animal turned and came back, Asmond followed on unsteady feet, carefully stepping over fallen debris. The wolf sat close to my side, one paw grazing my lower arm, Asmond lowered himself to my other. 

“What hurts?” He asked, carefully poking around my stomach and chest. Asmond seemed to regain more of his sense, but his body staggered slightly, and his arm shook, the one that had been cut off.  
“I-I…” _I can’t feel my legs._

“I think you have a cracked rib. The burns are already healing. The rib should-” My ears started to ring as I began to drift off. The snow fell lightly against my cheeks, warm. Snow isn’t warm. Dust, dust caressed my cheeks and curled around my visage. A warm hand held my cheek, my head turned and Asmond looked into my eyes. He was speaking, but only a distant ringing accompanied the scenery.

_ I can’t feel my legs.  _

_ My legs. _

“...l..legs..” I whispered as my eyes finally focused on his own.

He bowed close, “I can’t hear you, Margo.”

“...I-I can’t…”

I breathed deeply, fumbling to grab ahold of him, his horns being the best I could do. He leaned down at an awkward angle, his head bent and his eyes widened slightly. 

“I can’t feel my legs.” I let him go. 

Asmond leaned away, looking down with still wide eyes, “Margo…” Suddenly, he shook his head as if to clear it, leaning down and moving quickly.

“Stay calm, this is going to hurt,” and hurt it did. I cried out as he straightened my arms, and I screamed when he grabbed my shoulders and realigned my back. 

“You’re not going to die, but it’s going to feel like you are,” he warned when he was done, “You’re spine is broken.”

I began to wail at the revelation, he grabbed my hand and kept talking, “It’s going to fix itself. You have to lay still and endure. But I promise, Margo, I will be right here. Okay? I’m not leaving you.”

“You said I’d be okay!” I shrieked my accusation, finding my voice in my terror.   
He didn’t say anything, but I could see the shame in his eyes. He looked away, “It will be, but you have to get over the pain first. It will be okay-”

“I-I don’t believe you” I sobbed, jerking my hand away from him. He grabbed it again, squeezing gently, “Hold onto me.”

“Asm… Asm-mond,” A buzzing sensation began to form on my back. He leaned forward, “What is it, Margo?”

“I fucking hate you,” I whispered as it sank into my bones.

“Margo-”

I could feel it beginning, then. I threw my head back in anguish. For the first time, I willed death to take me. I begged him to take my body and end my suffering. I could feel it, the vertebrae sliding into place, the bones scraping back together as the splinters were forced back into place. I could feel the nerves slithering back between the bones, twining together once more where they had snapped. The muscle thickened and pulsated with newfound life, tendons strengthened and sinew puffed back up. I could feel dirt and pieces of debris being forced from the wound, I screamed out with the effort. I could feel the injury pull itself shut, the skin reformed and closed it off. Then, the pain deepened and was suddenly gone all at once. The shock I was left with was the most overwhelming of all, of agony and then nothing. I laid there and gasped and cried. 

I released Asmonds hand, having not realized I had been squeezing it so tight. I laid there for a moment, waiting for the pain to erupt again, but it didn't. It was as if it hadn’t been there, to begin with. I planted my palms against the ground, pulling myself up and bracing against the wall, sobbing harder in relief when I looked to see my knees properly bent. I laid my head back and tried to steady my breathing.

While I did, I looked at Asmond. He was sitting across from me, his legs outstretched and bent slightly, his arms bowed and resting on his knees. He seemed to be patiently waiting, gauging my reaction with a worried look.  
“What the _fuck_ was that?” I said, anger flooding my senses when nothing else would.

“Which part?” He asked, dumbly. 

“Wh-which part? WHICH PART!?” I scrambled to my feet, stumbled once, and half haphazardly made my way out of the destroyed armory. The door hung on one hinge, I shoved it aside and kept going. Asmond clattered after me, tripping over the door as he did.   
“Where are you going?” He asked as I reached the exit of his mini building.

“Oh, me?” I hissed, spinning around in my rage, “I’m leaving.”

“You can’t leave,” He gestured with his hands, as if it was the most obvious thing he could have ever said.

“The hell I can’t!” I yelled, stepping up in his face, “I’ve had enough of this bullshit. I’ve had enough of this,” I pointed to the branding, “Of this,” the outfit, “Of that,” the armory, “And of you,” I jabbed my finger into his chest, “I am  _ leaving _ .”

“Okay, Margo. You’re in shock-”

“Yeah,” I threw my hands up, whirling away from him, “I’d say I’m in shock-”

“-But you can’t just leave.”

I grabbed the handle, turning it, and opening the door. His hand shot open and he slammed it shut. I paused, before opening it again, only to have him force it to shut again. 

I mean, I knew he was right. I couldn’t exactly waltz out of here and walk off into the sunset in some realm unknown to humankind entirely. But that didn’t stop me from turning around and slamming my fists repeatedly into his chest. He stood there for a moment, watching. Frustrated that I wasn’t doing any damage, I instead brought my knee straight to his groin. He yelped and leaned forward against the wall. It was nice he had one weakness at least.  
Next, I grabbed one keratinous spike on his head and yanked down with all of my weight. To my satisfaction, he fell forward and hit the floor with a heavy thud and a deep groan.  
“That,” I spat as I sauntered away, “Is for breaking my spine.”   
Asmond growled, rolling onto his stomach. I turned, briefly afraid I had gone too far and triggered him into a rage. But he stayed down, leaning onto his elbows while resting on his horns instead of his forehead. 

I turned then and stalked off, not quite sure where I was going. On my way, though, I found the wolf coin on the floor and picked it up. The poor fella must have followed us when I ran out. Eventually, I found myself at the bathroom, I walked in, eager to wash the dust off and assess the damage. 

The door swung open easily and I latched it as I entered. I walked around for a moment, noting how odd it was that I didn’t feel any of the pain I had. Walking to the mirror, I did look like shit, but I had no visible wounds. I turned and observed my back, eyes widening as I found evidence of the pain I had endured. A long scar lanced up my spine following right along the linking vertebrae underneath. I craned my arm and felt it, there was no pain, it was as if I had had the wound years prior; it was thick and puffed out, a rich salmon color compared to the rest of my skin. I turned back around, and to my astonishment, my outfit looked the exact same way it had before, it was dusty but didn’t seem damaged in the slightest. Frowning, I slipped it off and tossed it aside, setting the coin on the long counter that held the sink. 

I further observed my body. There was another scar on my hip, it wrapped around my waist, stopped just near my belly-button, and almost connected to the scar on my back, but this one was much thinner and smaller. Sighing, I turned away, towards the shower, deciding I much needed it. 

When I got out, I found a towel in a dresser across the room. It was rough but absorbent, braided carefully, and dyed a dark brown. I wrapped it around myself and found it wasn’t as uncomfortable as I expected it to be, it also absorbed the water better than I thought. 

I shook the dust off of my clothes and found they were mostly clean, and pulled them back on, I quietly unlatched and opened the door, leaning out to look for Asmond. I could barely see his boot sticking out from the hallway. He must have been sitting in his chair, at his bookshelf. I stepped out, stepping quietly. I turned the corner, he was reading a book, his mouth curved in a slight frown, a canine caught on his bottom lip. 

I stepped out fully, “Asmond?” His eyes flicked up, then flicked back down. 

“I’m sorry I nut-shot you.”

His brow-line furrowed in confusion, “Nut what? When you knead me?” I nodded and he laughed, “No, no-no. It is very important to know your opponent’s weaknesses and exploit them to your ability.”

“Oh, uh, okay. You’re not mad?”

“No. You were having an episode induced by shock. It is common for humans when that happens the first time. It happened to me the first few times when I first started to…” he looked away, “To change.” 

I nodded and crossed my arms, “I feel like I deserve an explanation about what happened.”

His eyes shifted to my chest and lingered for a moment, “In the room, with the ax, I have no idea. I assume the transfer of energy was simply too much. But I never would have imagined it would have that kind of effect. There has to have been something different. It has to have something to do with you being a hybrid, I imagine, but I don’t understand how.” 

I stood there for a moment, not sure of what to say, “Okay… well, then, you said you weren’t mad when I kneed you, but when you hit the floor you growled. It seemed like you were about to go into one of your episodes.”

Asmond let out a laugh that sounded like a huff, “No, that was  _ not _ what was going on.”

“Then what was going on?” I asked with a curious tilt of my head.

He stared at me from his seat, I realized that even though he was sitting he was still as tall as me.

“When you grabbed me by the horns,” he smiled, flashing sharp canines, “When you threw me down,” Asmond trailed off, leaning forward. I stared back, confused. 

“Sentinels,” he lowered his voice, extenuating his words with a rumbling purr, “Are proud warriors, and seeing you act as one. It made me proud, but it made the Demon in me want to put you back in your place.”

My mouth fell open and my cheeks reddened, “What the hell does  _ that _ mean?” 

He shrugged, “The outfit doesn’t help much either. But Drau’drin does know her craft.”

With a deepening blush, I covered my already under-exposed chest, “It doesn’t even show any cleavage.”

Asmond leaned forward and pinched my stomach, “Doesn’t have to.”

I slapped his hand and he laughed heartily, leaning back in his chair. 

“I have a question about that actually. I noticed that it really didn’t get damaged during that explosion,” I said, picking at the dark blue bands of my top.

Asmond breathed out, standing up and coming a little too close. He leaned down to observe my shirt as well, grazing the material, and subsequently, my breast. I blushed but didn’t say anything, nor did I move away.  
“Drau’drin used a special material, it’s soft to the touch but extremely durable, mimicking a simple set of leather armor. The blast likely wasn’t enough to damage it. Tearing from teeth and claws are probably safe from this as well, I suspect that’s why she chose it.”

“Th-that makes sense,” I stuttered, feeling his breath against my neck.

Asmond noticed, his eyes rose to look into mine, his hand coming to cradle my cheek, “Still hate me?” He asked lowly with his lips turned in a slight grin. 

“Very,” I said back but found myself leaning forward, guided by his caress. 

My lips grazed his and I snaked my hand up to his chest, following his neck, before finally wrapping around the curve of his dark horn, where I pulled him further into the kiss. He grunted and swept me around, before pressing me against the bookshelf with such force, my body rocked and several things fell to the floor. 

“Asmond,” I breathed against him. Both of his hands went to my hips, holding me in place. I wrapped my other arm around his shoulder and parted my lips to deepen the kiss. His teeth clacked against mine during the growing excitement. I gasped and jumped when his canine caught my lip. I moaned at the sensation, accidentally pulling down on Asmond’s horn. It knocked his lips from mine, and he grunted in response.

Apparently picking up signals I didn’t realize I was sending, he moved down to my neck. Admittedly, I didn’t fight him, tilting my neck to give him more access. 

Asmond moved around in an odd manner, gliding his lips across the supple flesh and gentle biting in places. Finally, he chose a spot and carefully bit down, one of his hands simultaneously slid under my thigh, lifting it up. I followed his lead and hooked around him, pressing my chest closer for leverage, eager for the contact. 

He smiled against my skin, huskily groaning. He mumbled something in his native tongue, it rumbled from behind his teeth and sounded like a crackling fire.

I rolled my head to the side and slumped against the bookshelf, puffing as he bit down again, harder than before. I felt the skin break and Asmonds hand shot out from holding my leg up to start ripping books off of the walls. I felt him flex against my body, the wooden shelf groaned under our weight, but didn’t give way.

There was a sudden rapping at the door and Asmond turned his head to snarl at it, yelling out in a deep voice I couldn’t understand. 

“Asmond’dia,” They responded, I recognized him instantly, it was Erak’thile.

Asmond growled and pushed himself against me, a picture of protective and obsessive. 

“Fuck off,” He shouted again when Erak’thile knocked once more. The air briefly rose in temperature. 

“Asmond.” He said again, his voice much clearer, and much closer. 

I leaned out from behind Asmond to see him standing in the middle of the room, hunched over with an unreadable expression on his face. 

Asmond didn’t respond, continuing to hold me in place. 

“The Slayer is here, he is making his way for Herrato, we must prepare.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates have been slow lately, but I hope the longer posts have made up for it. I hope to go back to the weekly/bi-weekly formula. But Happy Holidays everybody, I hope your weeks have been swell during these hard times.


	13. The Marauder

Asmond tensed above me, his head still tucked into my neck. Erak’thile waited a moment longer, before sauntering down into the hallway.

“I’ll get your ax, your pet can use a-” The Archvile stopped talking, I heard the tattered door being moved aside as he must’ve entered the armory. Asmond rightened himself and moved away, releasing his hold on my hips. He immediately sat down on the chair, resting his chin on his hand. While he was gone, I quickly straightened my skirt and made sure my top was in place.

Erak’thile returned, holding Asmonds ax, shaking the dust off as he did, “I think we need to talk about your disciplinary skills.”

“That’s not what happened,” I quickly retorted, crossing my arms. 

“Then what did happen?” He snarled back, glowering down at me.

I glanced at Asmond, who had his steady eyes on me, waiting to see what I would do. I looked at Erak’thile, who was staring at me too, his spiked brows arched. Mustering as much dramaticism as I could, I took a step forward to meet his eyes. Well, the best I could with him having a good three to four feet on me.

“Nothing going on in here involves you or needs to be discussed with you,” He didn’t react so I straightened my back and went on, “So I don’t have to tell you shit.”

Erak’thile gave a baffled look and turned to Asmond, who shrugged with a slight grin.

The Archvile sneered then, tossing the ax down near where Asmond sat, it hit the floor with a clatter, sliding across where it stopped at his boots. Asmond stood and picked it up, walking to the armory, “I have a few more things to grab, it might take me a moment to find them.”

“Do you want me to get your human fitted?”

“What?” I said, taking a step away from him but I was let out of the conversation. 

Asmond hollered back, “No, she’ll stay right here. How close is he?”

“Close, he was spotted near the swamps in the East.”

“The Deag?” He hollered, a clattering sound accompanying his tone.

“You’ve been assigned to escort Deag Nilox, they are preparing his Thrall in Newark.”

Asmond came back, his mouthpiece clipped into place, his gun was reattached to his belt, and he was pulling on his arm coverings. He started talking as he adjusted his shoulder straps, “I didn’t expect him to attack again so soon again.”

“Neither did I, but this shouldn’t be a surprise. I took the liberty to question the Deag about your pet, he demanded there be no distractions, she must stay here.”

Asmond made a sound but didn’t reply. I shuffled nervously, unsure of my placement in this now, asking “Then do I stay here?” 

Erak’thile straightened his back, hit his head against the ceiling, and leaned over again, “You’ll be placed with the other slaves underground. If the need arises, an evacuation will commence Ant’wren and Waulb’earos.”

I frowned, “What about the rest of them?”

Erak’thile stalked forward with a scowl, “When it is safe to return, a party will return to gather what is left. What is dead will join Hell’s army.”

I turned away from his glare, knowing it was dumb to hope for anything different, and that it was worse to argue.

“Asmond’dia must leave now, but I will send a slave to fetch you if the need arises, for now, you will remain here,” Erak’thile said as he turned, heading for the still locked door. 

“This shouldn’t take long, the Slayer hasn’t broken through Herrato in a millennium,” Asmond assured, “But just in case, you should take-” he paused as he felt his pockets, frowning as he began checking other ones. 

“Oh, you mean this?” I innocently replied, pulling the wolf coin from my waistband. He gave me a look but nodded, “You activate it by-”

I nodded, “I think I know how, I did it before,” Asmond gave me another look with squinted eyes, “Then do it,” he challenged. Erak’thile, too, watched skeptically. 

I glanced at the coin in my palm, the coin was mostly made of bronze metal, but its raised symbols were accentuated with ivory. The wolf itself was reared on its hind legs, its paws in the air, claws out, the tail swished back and thick. The mouth was open in a snarl, showing thick canines, but the eyes were closed. I laid it on my palm, touching the wolf carefully, the eyes remained closed. Then I heard it, a faint whispering that seeped from the corners of the room. I shut my eyes and welcomed them, accepted them. I listened closely. They grew louder, I could feel them then, the eyes. When I opened my own, the wolves were opened, too, the green light pulsing. Just like before, a crack erupted across the coin, I let it go and it parted in the air, swirling before falling with a clatter. The smoke puffed out and grew dense. Then the wolf stepped out, light reflecting from his fur and smoke puffing out from his mouth and from his parts of its skin. It looked up at me before turning to Asmond, and then Erak’thile, where it laid its ears back. 

Asmond frowned, “You… We’ll deal with this later. This is Beanabab, she will protect you, and as long as you wield her name, she’ll follow you.”

“Beanabab?” I repeated. On cue, the wolf looked up, huffing out a breath. I smiled, “Your dog’s name is Beanabab? Like Bean, like Chili Beans?”

“Wolf-” He began to correct, but I quickly cut him off, excited at the prospect of a new companion.  
“Can I pet her?”

Asmond frowned, “She’s a war wolf, not a pet. She hasn’t been pet in a long time-”

I threw a hand to my chest, aghast, “You don’t pet your dog? Asmond that’s diabolical.”

Erak’thile snarled, “The Slayer is coming and you are worried about patting?”

Asmond huffed as well, “Yes, we have to go. But I will show you how to do it quicker. Beanabab,  _ Rakcha _ .”

The smoke dissipated and so did Beanabab, a coin laying whole where she stood. Hastily, he picked it up. Asmond flipped it in his hand, and then slammed it into the ground, forcing it to shatter. Smoke exploded momentarily like a bomb and Beanabab stood rigid, mouth pulled back in a snarl. 

“ _ Rakcha.” _

The smoke evaporated, the coin laid whole. He stood and unclipped something from his belt, a thin disk looking object. Then Asmond came close to me, leaning forward to fasten it to the side of my skirt. I blushed at his closeness, upset he wouldn’t stay, and that I couldn’t go.

“Okay, listen closely.  _ Vraz. _ ” As Asmond said it, the coin shook and whizzed across the floor, I yelped and ducked, but Asmond caught me, holding me close, and still. I felt a small pressure on my hip and then a click. When I looked, the coin had fitted into place on the disk. I reached down and it slid off like a magnet, Asmond carefully grabbed it and held it on his palm, “Now you say it.”

“Vaz,” nothing happened.”

Asmond corrected, extenuating the syllables, “ _ Vraz _ .”

“Vraz,” I repeated, and this time, it whirled from his palm and stuck to the piece of metal on my hip. I smiled in triumph, beaming at Asmond. He patted my shoulder, “Good job, now I’ve got to go, stay here.”

“Yes,” Erak’thile grinned, “The real warriors must go now. Have fun playing with your dog.”

“Have fun getting your ass kicked. Or will you even be there, Erak’thile? I heard you weren’t even in that last battle.”

The demon’s face skewed in anger and he came made a move as if he would swipe at me, but Asmond shoved him backward, “Out, we don’t have time for this.” Asmond unlatched the door and forced him out in all of his nine-foot glory, all the while Erak’thile spat and cursed. Asmond swung the door shut behind them, and I was left in silence. 

I had moved to the bed, leaving the door open in case anyone needed in. Curled up, leaning against the headboard, I held the only readable book in my hands. But after a moment or two, I paused and pulled off the clasped disk to observe it. I slipped out the coin, the part it attached to had the same symbols, but did not have the wolf, the colors were also a near-black color, the runes only visible because they were carved inwards. The back was padded with a thick leather-like material, it was soft and yielded when touched, the clasp seemed to be metal underneath, but was similarly wrapped in this padding. It was a simple slip-on one, but a latch on the bottom squeezed it tight in place, ensuring it wouldn’t fall off in combat. I fiddled with the coin then, before flipping it and trying to catch it. Only I didn’t and instead, I slapped it across the room, where it hit the wall and split apart. I briefly heard the whispers, and then the smoke billowed out. The whole ordeal was much quicker this time. The war wolf revealed herself, fierce eyes stared expectantly at me. 

I stared back and bent my knees slightly, “Come here girl, come here Beanabab.” I cooed out, clicking my teeth and patting my knees softly. She didn’t move for some time, but finally took slow steps forward, before hopping onto the bed. Still, she stood, waiting. I patted the spot next to me, “Come on Beanabab, come lay down with me.” She did, with uneasy steps and distrustful eyes. She first sat beside me, and then lowered herself and turned so that her head was pointed towards the open door. But she was still laying down, so I counted it as a win. 

Carefully, I reached forward and laid a hand on her flank. Beanabab made a noise and her head jerked back to look at me. She stared at me for a moment before turning back to the door. Experimentally, I moved my hand down her fur, it was soft, but the strands that produced light were stiff. She let out a sound similar to a growl and whine but didn’t move from her guard. I did it again and leaned forward to look at the glowing furs closer. They looked to be clear, with a green liquid or smoke encased inside that gave off the otherworldly glow. From here, I could see that her fur color was similar to wolves on earth, she had a heavy dusting of black on top of white, with deep black bands around the neck and face. I reached forward and slowly petted the fur on her head, cooing her name as I did. Beanabab twisted her neck to look at me, her mouth shut and her face relaxed, her eyes still alert and fierce. 

“It’s okay, honey, I promise not to hurt you,” I murmured as I moved my hand down her neck. A froze when I found a rough bump, following it as it wrapped around her throat like a collar. Curious, I scooted closer and parted her fur, which she allowed, and revealed a thick, ripped scar that ran over unnaturally white skin. I turned then, hands grazing the headboard as I searched. There it was, the carved hound, beheaded. 

Did that mean Beanabab had suffered the same fate as Asmond? Had she too been corrupted by Hell’s energy? More questions, I suppose.

The wolf laid her head down, relaxing her muscles fully as I loved on her properly now. 

“Good girl, Beanabab. We’ll just sit here and chill together, and I’ll just go back to my book here. Okay?” She huffed in response, her head lolling to the side as she rolled slightly. 

I don’t know how much time has passed, with nervous reading and petting. Beanabab suddenly lifted her head, her ear pricked as she turned to look towards the right. Seconds later, a thundering explosion echoed from somewhere within the building, close enough to shake the walls. I scrambled out of bed and the war wolf followed, her face pulled tight. I stood and waited, hearing no more noises, before moving into the main room, where I could see the exiting door.

Moments later, a conclave of footsteps rushed past it, heading towards the sound. Beanabab padded forward with a snarl scratching at the heavy wooden structure. Wanting to get out as well. 

“We can’t go out there,” I told her, but apparently fate disagreed as the doorknob turned frantically. 

“Beanabab,” I gasped, heading my call, she returned to my side, bearing fangs and releasing a sound that was more similar to a roar than a growl. The door swung open, revealing Kaity and another woman, “Oh, thank the Spirits!”

Beanabab made a move and I threw myself around her neck, holding her back as she pushed her weight against me, but did not fight, “No, no. Friends. Friends Beanabab, we don’t hurt friends.”

“What the hell is that?” The newcomer asked, leaning into the room to get a better look. She had dark skin and darker hair to match, thickly curled and cut close to her scalp. She had scared runes running up her arms like tattoos, exposed with a tanktop-styled shirt. Along with that, the woman wore pale-colored, tight pants. She had no shoes, like me.

“This is Beanabab,” I quickly said, calming the wolf. Beanababa lowered her hackles and shut her mouth, accepting that they were not a threat. 

“What’s going on out there?” I asked, standing up.

“The Masters have issued a standard evacuation plan, nothing bad-”

“N-nothing bad?” I sputtered with wide eyes.

Kaity gave me soft smile, “Oh yes, this is quite normal, sometimes rogue demons get into Herrato, but it’s quickly-”

“Kaity, you don’t know what’s going on?”

She straightened and smiled, “We are to report to the lowest level. Ant’wrens and Waulb’earos will be held in a separate chamber, guarded by an Elite Archvile who will escort them out as needed, further there will be a Tyrant to ensure nothing gets passed-”

“No, Kaity, you don’t understand. It’s not some demon, it’s the Slayer-”

“WHAT!?” The other woman hollered, turning around, she continued to scream as she went into the hallway, “I demand we go to the lower levels right NOW!” 

I followed Kaity out, Beanabab close behind. There were a few other women out there. Some were scantily clad, some were well dressed, and some… didn’t look so good. The closest had several burns clattered across her body, one covered over half her face, contorting her eye. I winced and looked away, towards Beanabab, she stood close, ears back as she looked around at the women. 

Kaity put her hands up, “Margo was our last one, we can go now, follow me,” she spun and started in an unknown direction. Her previous peppy attitude was gone, instead replaced with authority underlined with fear. 

The small group followed, I took up the back, with my wolf close by. The burned woman fell back near me, she nervously flashed a smile, “My name’s Anya, it’s nice to meet you.” Her accent was thick, sounding like it might have been Russian but certain syllables were warped now.

“My name’s Margo, this is Beanabab,” I greeted, patting the wolf next to me as we walked. I tried to focus on the conversation and tried to swallow my rising fear. A quick chat was just what I needed, a quick distraction. 

Anya glanced at her and tucked her hands close to her chest, “Oh, so it’s true then? You do belong to the Marder?” 

“The Marauder? Yeah, I suppose I do.” I said, moving my top to better show her my own branding.

“He left you his ‘olf?” 

“For protection, he had to go somewhere without me,” I hesitated, nervous to ask, but curious nonetheless, “Who do you belong to?”

Anya looked away, “An Archvile-”

I gasped as I unintentionally cut her off, “Is it Erak’thile?”

“No, his name is Zairodayus. Does your Master treat you kindly?”

I hesitated, “Yes, kinder than most. I know I’m luckier than a lot of others here.”

Anya nodded, her short, light brown hair bounced as she did, “Yes, very lucky.”

Our conversation ended shortly after that, instead, we followed Kaity in silence. That is until the sound of cracking stone at the end of the hallway sent us skidding to a halt. 

Beanabab moved forward to catch a look, snarling. It went quiet for a mere second, with bated breath we waited. And then the wall collapsed, and a massive body crashed into the hallway. It had to be between fifteen and twenty feet, with red skin and black horns that curved forward. It had digitigrade legs and thick hooves. The beast itself was alive, but it was bleeding from several places, its chest cavity exposed and pulsing. A green shape was slung forward, hitting the opposite wall but landing on his feet, still holding a gun. A second, massive, red beast stepped through the wall, roaring out in a rage.

A woman screamed, “It’s the Brothers!”

I took a step back, muttering under my breath, “It’s the Slayer.”

Kaity shouted something, but the women scattered, running in the opposite direction. It didn’t take long for Kaity to take another look at the fight, before she, too, turned and ran in fear. For a moment, I was alone in the hallway, along with the massive beasts and the Slayer, watching them fight to the death. The Slayer had righted himself, leaping onto the standing Brother, while the other was pulling itself back up. It scaled the beasts back as if it was a mountain, before grabbing a horn and jerking its head backward. The Slayer reared, thrusting his free hand into the air, where a blade whisked out from the armor of his forearm. And then, in one motion, he forced it across the thick tendons that covered the monster’s neck painting the walls and floor in a gushing river of red. At this, I turned to run and tripped over Beanabab, who barked out. 

I pulled her up and started running, making sure she followed. Turning corners wildly, I passed demons who paid me no mind and rushed in the opposite direction. It was only when I turned another corner and smashed into a man did I stop. I fell down to the floor, looking up and shrieking when I saw a flash of green. But the pleated armor rustled as the man moved, covering only the lower half of his body.

I gasped and cried, “Asmond,” but when I looked up, I had realized my mistake. 

The man wore the same kind of armor as Asmond, had the same bloody eyes, but was distinctly different. He was shorter but wider than him. With thinner horns that curved outwards instead of inwards as they grew up from the forehead; he only had one set, his colored ebony instead of bronze. He had no mouth covering, the skin of his lips had been entirely rotted or torn off, revealing sharpened canines and blunted molars. His skin was a pale white, covered in thick scars and old burns. The demon stared down in disgust for a moment, before his eyes roved up and down my body, and then to Beanabab. In both hands, he held a massive weapon that resembled a mallet in design, the “blades” were also made of corrupted energy. The blunted edges of the hammer held spikes that looked like they could grind flesh and bone. The handle part was made of thick, black metal, covered in leather wrappings.

When he spoke, his speech was broken up because of his mouth, and his voice sounded dry and cracked, as if his lungs no longer worked properly.

“How did you get his dog, Witch?” He snarled, taking a step forward. 

As he came forward, I scooted back on my hands, desperate to calm my shaking speech, “H-he left her with me-”

“Stand,” He commanded, and I did, terrified of what he might’ve done if I hadn’t.

He stepped around where I stood, raising his hammer higher. I screamed as he swung it down, falling backward as a resonating  _ crack _ echoed throughout the hallway. I hit the floor I backpedaled, looking up to find smoke clouding everything. Only his silhouette was visible, standing over me, holding his hammer. 

As it dissipated, I saw Beanabab’s coin laying on the ground, close to his boot. 

“What did you do!?” I shouted, tears catching on my eyelashes as they fell.

“I returned her,” Was all he said, as he bent down and grabbed it. Examining the coin, he turned it in his palms, “Asmond’dia, huh? You have the Sigil of the Marauders. That means you fall under my control. You will come with me.”

As he spoke, I dragged myself to my feet, shaking with tears staining my cheeks, “Give her back.”

“No. You do not make orders to your Mast-”

“VRAZ,” I screamed, on command, the coin dislodged itself from the demon's claws, spinning as it clattered to the disk at my side, clicking into place securely. I turned and bolted away, knowing I was running towards the Slayer, but hoping I could figure a way to get away from both before I ran into him as well.

I hadn’t even made it halfway down the hall before I heard the slamming footsteps, felt the hot breath on my neck, and the flash of red as he forced the handle of the mallet against my chest, caging me against him. His skin was cold.

With one hand, I tried to pry the mallet away, with the other, I tried to reach the coin, but he yanked me off my feet and pulled the weapon tighter. 

“Don’t bother,” He snarled against my face, “Wolves do not attack other Marauders.”

I had been unable to reach it anyway, but it didn’t stop me from shrieking out and kicking at the Demon’s legs. He carried me like that down the hall, effortlessly, with my feet unable to reach the floor. 

I screamed out at passing demons, even a human or two, but they sped up at the sight of the Marauder, not daring to even meet his eyes. This alone made me seize up and fight harder all at once.

“You have lost. Stop fighting before you get hurt,” he warned slowly. But in a last-ditch effort, I tucked my head forward before slinging it backward, feeling it bang against nothing but roughened horn. Briefly, my vision went dark and I stopped, but quickly I came back and continued to kick. The Marauder lowered me back to the floor, moving his arm to hold onto my waist tight, ensuring I couldn’t escape while he opened a door attached to the hallway sidings. 

With a harsh shove, he threw me into the dark room, shutting the door as he followed. I froze and started to shake. The darkness was all-consuming, but I could see vague shapes, and the Demon, from the light of his weapon. He stood there, staring down at where I laid.

“Where did you get the wolf,” He repeated.

I looked away, briefly afraid of whether or not I should tell him, and of what he would do if I didn’t.

“Asmond,” I shakily whispered, tucking my head close as I peered at him, gauging his reaction. He showed none, standing still, his eyes as unmoving as the rest of them. 

“Why do you have it,” He didn’t say it like it was a question, he was commanding my compliance.

“Protection. From the Slayer,” I said honestly, “While he is away.”

The demon seemed to accept this, finally breaking eye contact as he walked around where I had collapsed. I kept my eyes on him as he did, he asked his next question then, “Where has he been hiding you?” The demon crouched down, meeting my frightened stare fully. He smiled, but it held no niceness. He leaned forward and caressed my cheek, but the action held mock tenderness, and his hands were as cold as forgotten stone. In disgust and terror, I jerked away, finally scrambling away from him. 

“I don’t belong to you!” I yelled, tears reforming in my eyes as I leaped to my feet. The gravity of the situation had hit me, and what could happen here, where no one would help me. Where no one would dare challenge a Marauder.

“You don’t know anything, human. If Asmond’dia wanted you to himself, he would have claimed you. He would not have left you to wander the halls, waiting to be picked off. You are lucky I found you.”

“I have his sigil,” I weakly said back, knowing my words meant nothing in the face of these dangers. The Demon let his weapon clatter to the ground, further illuminating the room.

“You have the Sigil of the Marauders. His are on you, but mine are as well, human. I have as much a right to claim you as he does.”

“No, you don’t,” I muttered back, as a child would. I continued to back up until I hit a wall, and he continued to follow. He stood close, examining my state without touching me, “You are unruly,” He noted.

I hissed at him, “Don’t you fucking touch me,” before ducking and running past. 

He let me, grinning in amusement, as he followed with slow steps.“What were you doing out there all alone?”

I threw glances around wildly, looking for some way to escape, but in the shadows, I couldn’t even find the door, but I was eager to keep him off of me, and keep him talking, “I was separated, th-the Slayer attacked. Aren’t you supposed to be dealing with that?” I heaved a breath, groping at a table I had bumped into, but finding it empty. 

“I have time,” Was all he said, and I heard his heavy steps echo through the room as he came closer. 


	14. Graund

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains nonconsensual aspects.

Turning, I saw the Demon advance where I was already cornered against the table. 

“Stay away from me,” I yelled, bearing teeth as I did. My mock intimidation did nothing to falter his movements, however. He only grinned, tilting his head in amusement. 

“Easy,” He said with fake softness, “Be a good girl now, and I won’t have to hurt you.”

I narrowed my eyes and leaped to the side. Too late in my action to flee, he roughly snagged my hair. I screamed out and fought, kicking back at him in terror. He jerked me forward, before spinning my body to face the table once more. My hips bumped harshly against the wood as he knocked me closer to it. The Marauders fist tightened down to the scalp, in one swift motion, he slammed my face down on the table. My arms uselessly slid from under me, clawing at the wood for purchase. 

I howled in pain when my head connected with the harsh surface and tried to push myself up, but he repeated the action. He kept going until I stopped struggling, each motion felt harder than the last. I cried out again in desperation, my face was warm and wet from a mixture of blood and tears. My lips stung, and my nose burned. I slumped forward and he let me, my lids falling shut as the world darkened more. Briefly, I was gone, alone in the void. 

“We’re not done yet,” The demon snarled, my eyes flew open at the sound of his voice. He jerked and twisted my head so that I met his eyes, “Asmond was always too weak for this. It’s good I found you when I did. I’ll make a true  _ Ant’wren _ out of you.” 

“Please stop,” I begged through bloody teeth. A welt was growing on my tongue, I must’ve bitten it that last time.

The demon hummed, sliding his hand down my back. I shuddered in disgust as he dropped my face back down to the table. Unable to hold myself up, I fell forward, resting with my cheek against the harsh wood. I closed my eyes, unsure if I could get out of this or not. 

His hand continued down to the hem of my skirt, tugging it softly at first, but then became agitated. Luckily, it held tight, and I wasn’t about to show him how to undo the laces. 

I turned away, hiding my mouth as I was unable to help it, “I’ll fucking kill you,” I hissed under my breath, rage ebbing my terror. 

He leaned forward, his chest grazing my back, “Careful, I’m being nice.” His tone held mock kindness, but I could hear the sinister lying beneath it.

I craned my head to meet his eyes in defiance, “If I don’t he will.”

“Asmond?” He chuckled, “That pathetic excuse for a Marauder couldn’t-” The room shook as a massive explosion hit somewhere nearby, he tensed in surprise. The demon righted himself, fist still entangled in my hair, “Enough of this. I’m growing impatient.”

“You’re running out of time,” I murmured under my breath, but he ignored my remark. I tensed and slowly moved my arms underneath me, palms flat against the table.

The Demon released my hair and instead grabbed my hips fully, making a move for the skirt again. Taking the chance, I pushed up and threw my body up against his, knocking him backward, just enough to turn myself to face him. He grunted and snarled, briefly letting go as I clawed at his face, kicked at what I could reach. I went for his eyes and jerked down on his horns, with my knee, I went for his groin. By my knee connected with a metal codpiece and I yelled out, briefly stunned. 

The Maurader yelled, “Fucking bitch,” and wrapped one hand around my neck, slamming me backward onto the table. My back ached at the over-arching angle, and I grabbed at his hand, trying to pry his claws off of me. I started to scream, only to have it cut off as he squeezed, it only came out as a wheezing choke. But he didn’t relent the pressure, squeezing harder until I was sure he would snap the delicate bones of my neck. Even when his other hand started to successfully pull the skirt down, he only pressed harder, his claws digging in enough to draw blood. 

I feebly kicked one more time, before stopping, desperate and afraid. My vision ebbed into darkness, I heard whispers in the corners of my mind. 

In one swift action, all the sound was gone. I could only hear the rushing blood in my ears, having nowhere to escape to. The room was suddenly flooded with light, so bright I was blinded. Was this the tunnel? Was this it? 

I forced myself to stare into the demon's eyes one last time, but he was not looking at me, his head was turned, and then he was gone, my body jolted with his release, crumbling in on itself.

I fell to the ground hard, coughing and wheezing as air ripped its way back into my lungs. I looked up, the light had been from the door, or what was left of it, it was more of a hole now. Something flew across my vision, fire exploded and a cracking boom ignited my hearing once more. All at once, I was assaulted with noise. 

A crash sounded as the Marauder was thrown against the ground, he yelled out, enraged, as he tried to clamber back up. But he was thrown back down as a massive bulk pinned him, forcing a blade between his ribs. I heard the tearing of skin, the thick splashing of blood as it collided and soaked rock. 

Fearful for my life, I clambered under the table into the far wall where I clutched the wooden leg and screamed with the onslaught. The Marauder had regained his footing, making a move to grab his discarded weapon, only to be slammed into the wall, a barrel slammed against his chest before the trigger was even pulled. When it did, I could see the force of the bullets ripping through his insides, his body seizing momentarily. 

I moved my eyes to the horror destroying him, not surprised to see who it was, but all the more petrified.. 

The Slayer grabbed him by the horns, whirling his body like a doll and throwing him back to the floor. After that, the Beast threw his shotgun to the side. It dematerialized midair, never hitting the ground, eaten by a ghostly light. 

Groaning, the Marauder pulled himself first to his hands and knees, and then began to stand. Waiting, the Beast walked around him like a predator. 

The demon stood, snarling at his adversary as blood poured from his face, “You fucker, I should’ve known-” 

The Beast advanced with heavy steps, pulling his fist back and colliding it with his face, the metal sheared flesh from the bone, the skin already thin and tattered. That’s when I realized, this wasn’t a slaughter, this was a demonstration. He gave no time for the demon to recover, grabbing his skull in one hand and a horn in the other, he started pulling. The Marauder fought, but couldn’t stop him as the splintering sounded through the room, and then the horn snapped off as he screamed out. It was thrown, clattering to a stop near my shaking calf. An oozing black substance steadily leaked out.

Another crack sounded as the Slayer grabbed his arm, twisting hard enough to break the bone. I heard metal grinding against metal, and a glint of reflecting light. Then the demon was howling and something solid and wet smacked against the ground. I curled up under the table, unable to watch anymore, tucking my head into my knees, as I screamed with the demon.

Moments later, the Marauder wasn’t making any more noises, but it took several more moments for the rending of flesh and breaking of bone to stop. My own shrieks dulled to a loud sob, I couldn’t make myself stay silent, rocking softly in a pathetic attempt to soothe myself.

Heavy, slow steps made its way to the table, stopping just in front of it. He paused a moment, before I heard the metal scuffing as he crouched. I curled tighter, choking on spit as I squeezed my eyes shut and cowered against the wall.

There was a soft sound then, I turned barely, shakily taking a glance to see him patting the ground, as one would call a dog. I scooted further into the wall, shaking my head as I did. I didn’t look away this time, too afraid too. He was more red than green now, covered in viscera and gore, painted like a horrid Christmas decoration. It glistened on his visor, I could barely see his eyes underneath, but there was no more malice, but there didn’t seem to be anything else, either. 

He patted the ground again, a little more forcefully. 

“I’m not… going with you,” I said between sobbing hiccups. I was trying to sound strong, but my voice was hoarse, and shook with fear. He nodded, huffing as a bull would. I jumped at the noise, hitting my head against the table as I did. The shock of It was enough to get me to fall forwards, close enough for him to latch onto my arm. I cried out and jerked against him, but with the combination of his iron grip and my already tired body, it was easy for him to pull me out. 

I yelped when he did and half fell onto the floor and across of him, fumbling in favor of the floor. He let go, letting me flounder briefly before laying a steady hand on my shoulder, pushing down to hint at stillness. Reluctantly, I did, save for my shaking hands and quivering lips. I half laid there beside him, folded over on limp legs. One hand was shakily pressed on his thigh, done so in an attempt to steady myself, but I was too scared to move it now.

The man-thing remained there for a moment longer, before turning enough to gesture to the intangible mass of meat behind him. I glanced past and stifled a cry, looking back at him with wide, confused eyes. And then he pointed at me, before turning and pointing back to himself. 

My eyes widened and I covered my mouth with my hand, horrified. What the  _ fuck _ did that mean. He repeated the gesture with a more complicated motion -a swirling of his hand- that might’ve meant to hurry? 

“I-I don’t know what that means,” I told him with a shuddered breath. I didn't need to see through his visor to know his eyes were on mine, hard and cold as stone.

He didn’t make any more moves, but his head jerked to the door, where he stared for a moment. And then he stood so quickly I cried out in a panic and turned to scramble away. Before I could, cold metal grabbed my waist and I was hoisted up, the other hand stifled my scream before it could escape. He held me a little too tight, it was a little too hard to breathe, and I was a little too closely pressed against him. 

For a moment, I was afraid this was where he would end me. But then he was walking, and he removed his hand as he knelt, setting me down as he did. Before I could squirm away, he pulled a metal grate off of the wall, pushing me towards the vent he had revealed. I hesitated momentarily, but with a firm push, I scrambled in. I turned briefly, only to have the Beast slam the grate back in place. He turned, walking away. He returned to the corpse, rifling through the filth until he found what he was looking for, grabbing something else a little ways from that as well. Standing up, he flipped a coin in his hand. It suspended in midair as it spun, and then an ethereal light ate away at it. The wolf coin was gone, as if sacrificed to a higher power. He slid whatever else was in his hand into a thick pocket attached to his suit.

Then, he faced the door and paused, holding out his arms in an oddly specific manner. 

“What the hell?” I gasped under my breath. Before my eyes, a massive weapon materialized just as the shotgun had disappeared. It had multiple, long barrels projecting off of it, the base of it was thick, resembling a mounted turret. He continued, then, with renewed vigor, out the door and turning the corner, where he opened fire. The sound of a million battles released itself from his gun. Immediately, there was screeching in response. 

I could hear them now, what must have been the second wave of demons. I scooted back as he disappeared from my line of vision, turning to see the dark of the tunnels behind me. It was big enough for me to comfortably crawl on my hands and knees, but not much else. I turned back around, checking the grate. It was stuck there, no way I could kick that off in the state I was in. For a moment, I fell into myself and sobbed, grabbing at my exposed skin and skirt, screaming into my hands at what I had escaped. But I didn’t know which part I was screaming about.

However, I certainly didn’t want to stick around and wait for that monster to come back, or some other Demon to find me. My best bet was to find Kaity, or go back to Asmonds room. The former seemed near impossible, but maybe I could manage it if I could just get out of these vents. Wiping my eyes, with hiccuping breaths, I patted the side of my skirt, exhaling in relief when I found Beanabab’s coin still there. The thought of using it during the fiasco never came to me, for all I know, she’s dead from the Maurader's sickening blow.

I slowly slid it from the casing, holding it in my palm before flipping it as the Slayer had done, I let it clatter to the ground. I listened close, but couldn’t make anything out for the gunfire and shouting in the distance. When nothing happened, I closed my eyes and began to cry, sure she was gone for good. But moments later, a ghostly glow lit behind my eyelids. With a gasp, I looked to see her there, standing as if nothing had happened. Her head was ducked down, and her mouth was pulled back in a pant. Her eyes searched around the space, eyeing the source of the raging battle nearby.

“Beanabab,” I gasped, leaping forward to wrap my arms around her neck. Burying my face into her fur, I stifled a sob. Quickly I pulled back, wiping at my face, “Can you get us out of here?” 

I don’t know if Beanabab actually knew what she was doing, but I had been following her for some time. She could walk with her legs straight but had to lower her head to accommodate the space, huffing as she turned corners. Several times, we had to stop so that I could collapse, convulsing from exhaustion and pain. Sometimes, I had to lay there and simply cry. 

During these moments, Beanabab would protectively curl her body around mine. The Marauder had done a number on me, but I was grateful the Slayer had come when he did. Even as traumatic as that experience had been, if he had not, I might not have gotten away. 

That thought alone made me start to wonder, how had I escaped the Slayer twice, unharmed? Well, unharmed from him, that is. Sighing, I shook my head, maybe I’d find out some other time. If I didn’t die first. Beanabab took a sudden, sharp turn, where she barked and sped up with clattering claws. I followed her billowing smoke and ghostly light, glad to have found a possible exit. She stopped near a grate, scrapping at it. I Joined her, scooching her over and peering in. To my relief and unease, I recognized the room. It was the first place Erak’thile had brought me. Where I had got my branding, where my fate had been marked. 

Still, I banged on the grate and shouted, rattling it. To my surprise, the metal cross-hatching twisted and curled outwards, just enough for Beanabab and I to squeeze through. I crumbled to the ground when I did, and she stood with her belly right above me, a protective position, like a mother standing over her pup.

“Trying to escape?” I heard a familiar voice hiss. 

I raised myself to my elbows, looking up to see the demon who had manipulated metal, the crater in his face pointed steadily at me. 

“Kinda,” I said with heavy breaths, “I just want to go back to my room now.” He made a  _ ‘hmph _ ’ sound, stalking away on thin, digitigrade legs. Strangely, he balanced on no claws, but curved stilt-like stumps that seemed way too small to support his weight. On the bottom of his itty-bitty-way-too-small feet, looked like paw-pads. 

“What were you escaping from,  _ Ant’wren _ ?” He asked, sitting back at his desk, where he began looking over stacks of papers. I sat up, ushering Beanabab off of me, I heard the metal grate quickly bend back into place behind me, ensuring I couldn’t run back through. Not that I wanted to.

I moved to lean against the wall, “A lot, apparently. At first, I was running from another Marauder-”

“Asmond’dia didn’t do that to you, then who?” He turned around, something similar to concern on his face. As he spoke, the black tar would occasionally drip out, but it wasn’t nearly as much as last time. At the mention of my face, I reached up to touch it, feeling the dried blood. Near my forehead, fresh blood still dribbled out, and I could feel the deep cut on my bottom lip.

I shook my head, sarcasm edging onto my teeth as I dropped my hand, “I didn’t catch his name.”

“That’s a violation, you belong to Asmond. You do not belong to no other. Tell me which one and I will alert the proper council.”

I frowned, “I- He’s dead.”

The demon paused before slowly turning in his chair, “You cannot kill a Marauder. What were you running from?”

I shuffled where I sat, looking down, “It… The Slayer got him, I don’t even think he had a chance to fight back. One minute he was on me, and the next he wasn’t.”

He scowled, “How badly did he hurt you?”

“Which one?” I asked, he indicated to both. I looked away momentarily, shutting my eyes and leaning back, “I don’t want to think about what he would’ve done to me, but he was very… verbal about his intentions. He slammed my face against a table a couple times. But before he could do anything else, the Slayer was suddenly there. And then he was done.”

“And the Slayer?”

“He put me in the vent.” I simply said with a shrug.

He tilted his head in an odd manner, “We have not seen that kind of response, I will alert the Deag.” I nodded, hoping that was the right thing to do. 

“He’ll probably come looking for you, then,” the demon mused, leaning back in his chair. I looked up fearfully, but he chuckled, waving off my fright with a clawed hand, “It is safe in here, he cannot get past my walls, nor my doors. His feeble human machines can’t see past it either.” 

I looked down, nervous to be in here, but scared to be anywhere else. I hoped his confidence wasn’t mistaken for arrogance. The lanky demon stood up, stalking near his furnace of lava, where he picked up a wrag before bringing it to me. Quietly, I thanked him. It was thick, and rough, and had charcoal stains on it. But, it didn’t deter me from finding a clean spot and carefully working the blood from my face. After that, I worked on the rest of my body, unsure of what was from wounds, and what was left-over from the death-hug from the Slayer.

“But that is the fate of an Ant’wren,” the demon finally muttered, turning back to his work as he sat back down. I looked back up at him, “What do you mean?”

“I’m not surprised he assaulted you, that Marauder. I’m not surprised if that is the reason the Slayer wants you.”

“Because I’m an Ant’wren?”

“Yes. Because you have his Sigil.”

I looked at him with wide eyes, pointing to the symbol on my chest, “The Slayer is a Marauder?”

“Close,” he said, “The Slayer used to be a Sentinel. The symbol you bear now is ancient, belonging to an almost dead race and order, the Sentinels. Now, it represents a handful of rotting demons, and one mean man. 

I gave him a side glance, “What do you mean he used to be?”

“The Slayer betrayed us long ago. Now he hunts our kind as sport. He is twisted, he is cruel. We are here only to exist, not to be destroyed,” He frowned with a sigh, “We do not deserve his judgment.”

“But… What about Earth?” I asked, staring at him in disbelief, as he acted as if his kind wasn’t ruining an entire planet.

He hummed, “Human, surely you’re not that ignorant. Your own kind has expanded, pillaged, for personal gain. For existence. For living. Extinction as an extension of life. I’ve been to Earth many times in my youth, I know of your customs. You bomb billions of beetles yearly for comfort. You bomb millions of humans for resources. Extinction for existence. It is simply your people's turn.”

I looked away from him, what he was saying was wrong, it  _ had _ to be. But had we not done the same, was he not speaking some form of truth? But that hadn’t made it right, it had never been right in the first place.

“Extinction for existence,” I repeated solemnly, a heavy feeling weighing down on my chest. 

The demon nodded, rising from his chair, “That is the cost of living. You will learn that with time,  _ Ant’wren _ , Hell is not a kind place for the weak,” He walked across the room, waving his thick arm in a move of dismissal, “But I have work to do, I do not mind you being here. You are no concern to me, nor my work.”

“What about the Slayer?” I carefully asked.

He turned with a grin, “Come, human. Forget the Slayer. Come, learn about your new history.”

“You can call me Graund, human,” The demon told me as he crossed the room. I followed him, watching him move. He was mostly thin and tall, about six feet maybe. His skin was brown in color, and his ‘M’ shaped horns were a red so dark it was almost black. Jutted out words in an almost prideful-looking way, but was sunken in to show his ribcage, his skin-tight around his spine as it connected to his narrow hips. His legs were thin and long, if he stood fully, he probably would’ve been taller, but we walked with exaggerated bends. His arms seemed to be a normal length, with skinny upper arms, with the bottom half and his palms being encrusted in thick hide-like armor. His claw-like fingers peeked through, short and thin. When we walked, he swayed slightly, like a mantis would in the wind. Curiously, he had a small, thin tail that curled like a monkey. Little bumps ran up it, following the vertebrae. All the way from his neck to the tip of that tail, his vertebrae poked through the skin, blackened bone shrouded in thin skin. He wore no clothes, I didn’t know if he had any, uh, “man parts,” but wasn’t about to ask if he did.

Graund led me across the room, where he leaned down to the floor and grasped a hooked clasp embedded into the stone. There, he pulled, revealing a hidden hatch that groaned as it opened. He briefly crouched, kneeling back on his legs, before hopping in. I leaned over and much to my relief, found a ladder. Beanabaab, however, chose his method, leaping down with her front paws first. I gave her a gasp, and then an odd look when I realized she landed her jump and padded out of sight.

I swung myself down carefully, steadily stepping down to ensure I didn’t slip. I made it down quicker than I thought, finding it to be a dimly lit basement-type dwelling. The walls were made up of thick stone, wedged together and held there with a shiny metal that looked like it was applied as a thick liquid

“This,” Graund said, sweeping his arms forward to the shape before us “Is the Hunter of Hunters. The Slayer of Slayers. I call it,” he paused, turning with a wide grin, his voice heavy and loud with grandeur, “The Doom Hunter.”

My eyes flickered from Graund to the creature tacked up on the wall. I frowned, walking as close as I dared, “It’s… dead.” 

I came even closer, there was hardly anything left of the poor thing. The skin was tanned and tight, resembling a mummy of sorts, something long forgotten in a tomb. The creature only had a torso, its head, and one arm. He was pinned to the metal like a bug in glass. The muscles it had in life were well preserved, but the face was badly decomposed, or maybe it was simply resembling other demons here, decrepit and skull-like. The shape of the skull resembled a human, with human-looking teeth, and a thick chin that had two protruding spikes on the edges that pointed towards the middle. The neck was thick and corded, lined with blunted spikes. The shoulders were rounded and heavy with muscle, larger spikes jutted out, resembling an Archviles, with a smaller one closer to the neck, all pointed towards the head. I couldn’t make out any other features on the chest and torso, it was too mangled, and the dried husk-of organs that were hanging out were hardly identifiable. The arm was simple enough, built lean, with corded beef threaded through. The hands held three fingers and one thumb, all lined with a thick, sharp claw. On the skull, like many other demons here, were an impressive set of horns they were set lower than other demons, where ears would’ve one, and steadily curved outwards before inclining sharply near the tips to point up fully. At the center of the skull, where the eyes would’ve been placed, a large crater was set deep into it. Whether it had eyes in life, I couldn’t tell, but the skin seemed to encase it fully, sunken in and tight to the bone.

Tentatively, I reached forward and felt the skin, it felt like leather, and it was cold. I stood on my toes and strained to touch the base of the horns. Tt had tiny bumps on it, making the whole horn feel like fine-grained sandpaper. I wondered if Graunds’ would feel the same way.

I looked at Graund, of course, his horns were different, as were his arms. And his jaw was set much higher on his face, his small teeth covering the top ones in an underbite. It almost made him look like a bulldog.

Giving him a confused look, I turned back to the corpse, the two creatures  _ did _ resemble each other, but I didn’t have much to work with, seeing how little of the corpse was left, “What is this?”

“They’re supposed to be extinct,” he chuckled, “My kind are the only remaining shadows of the Great  _ Agaddon  _ Hunters. But bare witness, human. Witness perfection, because soon the  _ Agaddon _ Hunters will be among us again-”

“You’re desecrating the dead!” I cut him off, unnerved by his sudden, almost biblical outburst, “Was it not you who said that extinction is necessary for existence?”

Graund smiled, standing straighter as he staked forward on his weird, alien feet, “What is hell without a little hypocrisy? My people are not the straight-men. Neither are yours. Was it not your kind who have recreated life? Even on such a small scale?”

Damn him and his backward knowledge of Earth! I never said we hadn’t tried, anyway.

“How will you do it without the rest of it?” I asked, looking back to the body. Graund frowned, sneering slightly as he looked away, “The Grand  _ Deag Ranak _ ,” he sarcastically spat out his name, shifting his shoulder to emphasize each word, “Feels the Agaddon Hunters went extinct because they were inferior, he’s called upon me to make adjustments to the body.. I was given these remains as a base to make my changes. After that, he’ll produce them on a higher scale elsewhere. Clones of a higher species, left for dead when we needed them most.”

I looked at his posture, his pointed, distasteful expression, “He had one of the last remaining ancestors dishonor the body of a grand warrior?”

Graund grinned and puffed out his chest, “Yes, human! You understand my disgrace! My dishonor!” The Demon's gusto faltered, and his confidence stumbled as he lowered himself closer to the ground. He had a pained look on his face as his eye-less face met the corpses. Clearly, this truly meant a lot to him, this shame was real for him.

“It doesn’t have to be like that,” I assured, taking careful steps to his crouched form, “Just think of this as bringing back a hero, ensuring he can fight the final, grand fight. His body is broken, but with your help, you will bring him the power to fight on.” 

He gave me an odd look, distrustful maybe, but it was hard to judge with no eyes to read, “What are you getting at, human? You are going back on what you say. Do you do this to save face? Or to make allies in poor situations?”

I frowned, “I don’t know, Graund, maybe I’m just being kind from one living thing to another.” Saying his name felt odd, it sounded like I was trying to say ‘grand’ but had put on a fake accent. It felt heavy on my tongue when I spoke it, almost like I was trying to swallow something that wasn’t there.

I continued speaking, turning away with a spin, “Or maybe I’m just playing my role,” I turned to flash him a grin, “After all, what’s hell without a little hypocrisy.”

“I like your  _ Umph _ , human. But remember-” he crossed the room, taking long strides on silent stilts, his hand grabbed my upper arm. His fingers felt like cold metal, when I looked at them, startled, I watched as they slid fully out, like a cat would hide their own claws. But as they did, they wrapped around my arm like worms. I looked at him with eyes wide, in the center of his skull cavity, a small flame had ignited, casting tiny shadows inside the crater, “-kindness does nothing but gets you killed here. Watch your back, protect yourself. Make allies where you can, but be careful. Nobody is kind here, not unless they want something in return.”

I swallowed hard, willing my body not to begin shaking again, “Then what do you want?”

Graund frowned, his alien fingers slid back into the sheath as he released my arm, “Your own niceties won’t go unnoticed. To some, it is a weakness to exploit. For me, consider this a fair warning. 

I took a step back, remembering the company I had been keeping as of late, “It sounded like a threat.”

He shook his head, “No. I have no reason to threaten you, human. I am not like that Marauder, if that is what you’re fearing. I… feel bad for the humans that are dragged here.”

I eyed him, “How do I know you’re not lying?”

He stopped in front of me, stopping with two long strides, he smiled as he leaned down, gesturing to my chest, “You’re not my type.”

“Because I’m human?”  
“Because you have the wrong parts.” He stood up, crossing his arms and turning towards the rickety ladder. 

Oh.  _ Oh.  _

Graund crouched briefly before leaping into the hole in the ceiling, disappearing, before I heard a small  _ thump _ that signaled he made it. 

I turned one last time, looking at the Aggadon corpse. It starred with its vacant gaze pointed to the floor, unmoving. Beanabab made a sound, I turned to see her crouching beside the ladder like Graund had. 

“What are you do-” I started, but cut off when, with a gust of smoke, she leaped, just like the demon had. Again, I heard the  _ thump,  _ and then the clicking of claws as she padded around. Sighing, I walked on my lame human feet and began the mundane, sad climb up the hatch. 

Graund was back at his desk, fumbling with the documents, whisking some off the desk, and pushing some into the lava that was close enough for him to reach -if he stretched out his claws. I shut the lid of the basement when I pulled myself out, sitting next to it with a huff when it slammed closed. It resonated through the room, I thought I could hear it echo back, but it sounded like dull thumps instead.

“Humans, huh? Didn’t take you as the type,” I said. Graund turned, an unamused look on his features. I smiled back at him, “Is that common in hell?”

He turned away, “More than you think. A lot of us see humans as cattle, though. But I suppose your kind like to fuck pigs, too.”

I bristled at his remark, mouth open in shock, but unsure of what to say. I shook my head, “I really don’t think this is the same thing.’

“Neither do I. But many of my peers see it as distasteful, but the _Ant’wren_ class is here for a reason.”   
“Then what is the Ant’wren class? What does it cover?”

Graund made a noise, “To put it simply: higher intelligent slaves used for sexual interactions. There aren’t many humans here, mostly women, but they’re sought after because unlike demons, they are-” He turned, gesturing to my body, “-squishy, meat bags. Quite comfortable to throw around and such.”

I covered my stomach in slight embarrassment, “That’s it?”

“No. Humans are easy to tame, very docile. Though, I prefer the ones with more fire, makes it all the more fun.” He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. But after a moment, he stopped. Turning away fully, he went silent. 

“Do you…” I hesitated, not sure how to continue my approach, “Respect humans?”

“Sometimes,” He said as he folded papers, “Certain ones. Do you mindlessly respect your peers?”

I shook my head despite him not looking my way, “No. I understand what you mean, though.”

He hummed, “Where’d your  _ Hira’shiram _ go, human?” 

“What?”

“Your demon. Your chosen,  _ Hira’shiram. _ ” He concluded, clawing up a paper before tossing it into the mini inferno that was beside him.

“Oh, Asmond. Um, I’m not sure. Erak’thile mentioned it, but I can’t remember what he said. He’s with the Deag, I think. 

“Deag Nilox?”

I nodded, “Yeah, I think that’s him-” 

A set of  _ thump thump thumps _ sounded again, closer this time. I jumped, looking at Graund with wide eyes. He waved it off, “Probably an Imp, they travel through the vents sometimes. Nasty bugs, they are. Wouldn’t mind if they were bombed off.” He laughed at his crude joke, slapping his palm against his slim thigh, but it sounded like a rock bouncing against dirt. 

I looked at Graund, pausing before carefully choosing my words, “Do you have a Hira’shiram?”

Graund didn’t reply for a while, but he eventually let out a sigh, “I did,” was all he said, before he returned to his work. I paused for a while, wondering if he would say anything else. When he didn’t, I decided to push my luck, “What happened?”

The demon took even longer to respond this time, “I couldn’t protect him. One of those Maykr bastards got a hold of him. It makes me wonder… would it have turned out different if I hadn’t chosen this side?” He turned around, his eyeless crater meeting mine. The muscles around the boney indentions are pulled in such a way that showed he was pained. I wondered if he had the ability to cry. 

“I don’t know,” I told him, “We can’t change the past, we can only deal with what’s happening now. If I’ve learned anything being here, it’s that humans are fragile. But he isn’t hurting anymore, his soul is at rest.”

Graund met my eyes fully, his jaw tightening, “No. You do not know anything human. His soul will never be at rest.”

My eyes widened slightly at what he said, but I couldn’t find anything else to say. I looked away, knowing he was right. I really didn’t know anything about this place.

“But I appreciate your kind words, human. I will remember them.” Graund muttered, turning away. Again, the room lulled into silence. I looked away from him, settling my eyes on Beanabab instead. 

She was at the vent, scratching at it and whining. She stuck her nose against the holes, sniffing and huffing. It turned into low growls. Then, she paced around and returned to my side, huffing all the while. 

I stood up, stepping to the vent and peering in, seeing nothing, “Imps are those little red ones, right? The spikey little guys?”

Graund hummed, seemingly happy for the change of subject, “The little rats that throw fire at you.”

I straightened myself, “I can’t stand those things! I mean, one is good and fine, easy to knockdown. But then the whole bloody brood shows up!”

Graund cackled out a laugh, leaning back as he did with his neck stretched out, “They don’t even know what they’re doing! Have you seen when they get in a scuffle and fight each other?”

“Worse than dogs,” I said, shaking my head as I leaned closer to look through the grate. 

The thumping grew louder, into more of a pounding. Graund groaned and pushed himself up from his seat, swaying on his legs as he crouched at the vent. He banged on the metal grating, shouting as he did, “Shut the hell up! You’re in the wrong place, fucking-”

The sounds stopped, before whatever was in the vent switched direction and fervently began heading towards his voice, metal scraping echoing and thundering as it grew closer.

Graunds’ eye crater seemed to stretch wider in surprise, he backed away with a hand on his chest, “That ain’t a fucking imp!” He hollered, before crossing the room in quick strides. 

“What is it?!” I shouted, following him as he shoved all of the papers on his desk deep into his lava pit, splashing gollops of it everywhere.

“You know what it is,  _ you _ led him here!” He shouted, careening across the room to make sure the latch was shut on the basement. 

“You said this place was safe!” I hollered, stumbling away from the vent as it grew increasingly louder. Worried, I called out to Beanabab, she was sniffing at the grate, but spun and came to my side when I hollered. 

“I didn’t think he’d crawl through the goddamn vents like a fucking rat!”

I patted the wolves back, “Coin time, Beanabab!” She looked up at me, “Vraz! Oh shit, fuck. Come on, dissipate, down girl.” She looked back at the vent, snarling, “Beanabab,  _ down. _ ”

Smoke billowed from her fur, cascaded from her mouth. Briefly, the glowing strands of fur on her body became brighter, before going out entirely. Suddenly, with a  _ poof _ she was gone, and her coin clattered to the ground. Quickly, I grabbed it and slid it back into place, not wanting her to get hurt. 

Satisfied with burning any evidence, Graund turned and raced back to where I stood, planting a curling hand on each of my upper arms, then he picked me up like a board and carried me to the far corner. 

“Cower,” he hissed, crouching down as far as his legs would let him, his back curled and he tucked his head close to his chest, but kept his gaze pointed towards the grate. I did as he said, leaning down on my knees with my arms wrapped around my stomach. 

Not a second later, the metal crate was thrown across the room, a green-clade fist sticking out. After that, he groped for leverage, his other arm reaching forward. The space was too small, it seemed. But a moment later, his head popped through, where he swiveled to look around, finding Graund. He disappeared again before his arm jutted out, pointing an accusatory finger. Shakily, he shuffled to face him in his crouched posture, bringing up his arms. With twitching fingers, from across the room, he manipulated the metal around the Slayer. Loudly, it scraped and folded, With an awful sound, the Beasts shoulders popped out, where he became stuck again. Angrily, the man tried pulling himself out, hitting the metal sidings when he couldn’t.

“What are you doing?” I whispered harshly behind the demon, watching him straine as the edging of the vent walls popped out. 

“Trying not to die,” He hissed back. Finally, with a clatter, the Slayer spilled through like a hellish spawn. Too quickly, he clambered to his feet, grunting audibly as he looked around, expecting a fight. 

Graund put his arms up briefly, before tucking them back into his chest. The Slayer stalked around then, checking the heavy doors that seemed to be sealed shut, before moving to the rest of the room. Finding nothing of interest, he thundered towards us with heavy steps, I shrunk half into the wall and half into Graund, but he seemed more afraid than I was. Moving so fast I yelled out in panic, he pointed where I cowered. 

“Oh shit,” Graund hissed, “You made him mad, human. I think you were supposed to stay in the vent.” He hip bumped me and I fell backwards. 

“Graund!” I gasped, fumbling briefly on my back, before I scooted into the corner. 

He shuffled farther away, “Take your mark of death somewhere else!”

The Slayer stood like a malevolent force, looking from me to Graund, as if deciding which one was worth the effort more. Then, with his focus falling on me, he steadily touched a button on the side of his helmet. There was a click, and then a whirring sound, before a voice broke the silence:

_ “Where is Deag Nilox.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter, I'll include a reference drawing for Graund, as he's becoming one of my new favorite original demon boys.


	15. Trade

I stared at him in disbelief, but no other words came from this ghastly being. The voice, clearly, was not his. It held a crackled air to it, robotic in a way. The voice resembled an older man with an accent. But what ensured me the fact was true the most, was that it didn’t hold any malice. No hatred. No danger. But the Slayer provided enough to make up for it. 

Graund muttered something and I barely dared to look at him. His eyeless stare was locked onto mine, his mouth dribbled with the black tar, and he looked afraid. But he nodded, assuringly. As if telling a child it would be okay. 

_ Just tell the truth,  _ I could hear my father say, somewhere in the back of my memories. But this creature wasn’t my father, and I hadn’t lied about breaking a vase, or stealing desert. I looked back at the Slayer, my mouth suddenly feeling dry, “I-I don’t know,” I whispered, for that was the truth. I  _ had _ been there, when Erak’thile had said it, “I can’t remember the… the name.”

The Beast raised his chin slightly, looking down at Graund as he did, where he stuck his hand out. There, a small pistol seemed to ignite in his hand, firing immediately with a thunderous sound that smashed against my eardrums. The gunpowder ignited and made stars dance before my eyes.

Graund released a shriek as the bullet pierced his ribs, the awful sound was high pitched and grating, like tearing metal. I immediately cringed in pain and covered my ears, yelling out with him. 

“I don’t know!” I screamed, tucking my head close.

The gun went off again, Graund screamed and I barely looked in time to see him clatter to the ground, the same thick, black liquid flooding from a wound in his thigh. The Slayer readied for another shot, threateningly. But this time, he pointed it at Graund’s eyeless crater. When the demon looked up, he stopped making noises, his mouth hanging open as he started to shake.

“ _ Fucking tell him _ ,” He hollered through clenched teeth, tar sputtered out when he said the syllables. 

The monster met my eyes, daring me not to speak. Daring me to make him pull the trigger

“I-'' he moved closer to Graund. I heard a click as he loaded the bullet into the chamber, and that was all I needed to finally spur my muscles. Before I could stop myself, I scrambled forward. At my movement, he raised the gun, matching it to my forehead. It was a miracle he hadn’t shot me dead at my bold defiance. 

I met his eyes through his visor, they were narrowed. There was something missing, now.

“Thrall! The Deag is with his Thrall, in a city. I-I can’t remember the name. But-” I choked, tears finally spilling from my eyes, “An Archvile knows where. I...” I covered my mouth, stifling a sob, “I don’t know his name.” As much chaos as he caused, Erak’thile didn’t deserve a target on his head. At least, I wasn’t the one who needed to give it to him.

Waiting a moment, the Beast lowered his gun, accepting what I said as the truth. But it wasn’t enough, as he grabbed my arm and spun me around, forcing me to walk in front of him. I didn’t move for a moment, but feeling a muzzle bite into my bare back urged me towards the door. 

I paused when I reached it, not daring to turn to look at him, “I-it’s sealed.” I heard Graund strain and groan from behind us, moments later, the metal that held the doors shut melted and trickled down like blood. I pushed it open, turning briefly to cast one last look towards Graund. He was looking at me, a sad look on his face. Still curled there on the ground, he was covering the bullet wounds with his palms, the tar seeped past his claws, much slower. But he nodded slowly, ever so slightly, as if what I had done was right somehow, ensuring me it was.

I was led across the building, but halfway through, he had pushed past me, leading now. But I was still stationed close by, close enough to brush against his metal armor when I stumbled a little too close. Close enough he would grab me if I would bolt. But the sight of splattered remains of various sizes was enough to stop any fleeting ideas. It was everywhere, the walls were painted red with gore, several times I had to step over gore and masses of awful smelling carcasses, already seeming to decay. Along the way, I recognized the fallen corpse of one of the Brothers, his red flesh stained redder, his face caved in, the rest of him left no better.

Not a living soul disturbed our descent. When he wasn’t looking, I slipped Beanabab’s casing to the inside of my skirt, the clip still visible, but much better hidden. I was unsure how he hadn’t seen the coin yet. Maybe I was just that non-threatening to him. Maybe he had seen it, maybe he simply didn’t care.

Finally, The Slayer found what he was looking for, slamming open a set of double doors that were set deep into the tall walls. The borders were made of flat stone, encasing a deep brown wood that had runes carved in, these seemed to either be painted a rich red, or were stained to be that way.

He walked through the empty room, confidence in his step as he didn’t wait to be stopped. There was no one left to stop him.

The room was massive, appearing to be a hall of sorts. Across it, something ducked into the darkness, silently. I glanced at it, then to the Slayer, who paid it no mind. He walked forward to a half-circle table that held massive, complex screens. Stopping at it, he began to type on the flat monitors as images and symbols strewn up and down it. He paused, turning to me and pointing to the screen. Nervously, I came forward and looked at what was on it.   
“I don’t understand this language,” I told him, leaning away from it. He grunted in response and touched a few more keys, a moment later, the symbols spun and changed to English characters, swinging from a vertical format, to a horizontal one as it did. It was a list of words, places. He pointed at the screen. 

I looked over them, frowning. All of them were alien to me. I think it had started with an ‘H’, but several of them started with that. Words like  _ Nazax, Joar, Loap, Varabna,  _ and so many more.

“I… think it’s this one,” I said, pointing to one that looked vaguely familiar, “Wait, no… Maybe it’s this one?”

The Slayer grew impatient, slamming his pistol onto the table in front of me, keeping his hand on it. At the crack of it, I jumped and yelped at the sound.

“I don’t know! I told you what I can,” I reasoned, “That’s what I know. He said the name, and then he left with the Deag, but I don’t know where they went.” His head snapped in my direction, furious I had left out a detail. I stuttered, unable to form words as I backed away. Tears gathered on my lashes, falling when the weight became too much to bear. He came closer then, and I cried out, “Please stop!” I backed up farther, covering my face with my hands, “Please don’t. Please, I’m sorry.” 

As I moved away, I hit the table and shrieked, protectively covering my throat with my own hands, continuing to beg between sobs. I could see it all before me, the horns, the flashing red eyes, the Marauder that wasn’t my own.

“Slayer!”

I froze, choking momentarily in my shock. The Beast had too, slowly turning around. Across the room, standing near the door was a Demon, his weapon in his hand, drawn. Red light glinted off of his pale skin, his cracked horn glinted in the light. Bronze horns that curved back. His red eyes briefly met mine, then snapped back to the Monsters. 

“Asmond,” I whispered, shaking hard when I had snapped out of my terror. 

He stayed where he was, his steady voice carrying through the open room, “She doesn’t know where the Deag is. I’ll tell you where Nilox is, but you let her go.” 

The Slayer held his place, nodding once, but made no other move. 

_ You first _ , he silently demanded. 

Asmond paused, skeptical, “Put your gun away.” 

The Slayer did, it wavered before disappearing from his grasp. But I didn’t feel any safer. The red flickered before it went out, the jaws of his ax shut tight as he sheathed it onto his side. The Slayer reached himself and pushed me forwards, in front of him. I gasped and stumbled, looking at Asmond with wide eyes.

His eyes met mine, softening, “It’s going to be okay,” he murmured carefully, “Easy, start coming to me, real slow.” 

I did as he said, taking careful steps on quivering legs. When I made it about halfway, I heard the sound of metal scraping metal and Asmond held his hands up. I froze, turning to see the Slayer had unsheathed his knife, where it stuck from the side of his arm. In one smooth motion, it retracted. 

I looked back at Asmond, and he nodded, “Deag Nilox is on Earth. He is in the state of New York. The Barg, atop his Thrall,” Asmond paused, his eyes met mine again, “Okay, you got what you wanted. Margo, come on.”

Whining, I started to take slow steps towards him. No sooner than I did, I heard a rush of air behind me. A cold metal arm wrapped around my waist and I was jerked back against a colder body. The breath was knocked from my lungs as I was crushed between metal. My world spun as I screamed, and he turned. 

Near him, a blue light ignited in the center of the air. It fumbled and grew, twisting and growing until it  _ fwooshed _ into a portal. Blue and winding, I couldn’t see through it, it was only a whirling mass of blues and whites. Behind us, Asmond shouted, yelled, cursed. But he couldn’t stop the Slayer as I was suddenly thrown through the air. Briefly, I was suspended, as if in water, the world around me frozen. I could see Asmond, his eyes wide. I could see the Slayer, his shotgun drawn, pointed at the Demon. And then I hurtled through the portal, and every part of my body felt as if it was being ripped apart. 

I coughed and sputtered, convulsing as I came to a skidding stop. The ground was metal, but it was cold. I laid there for a moment, waiting for the shaking and seizing to stop. When it did, I pulled myself to my knees, coughing and gagging as I looked around. I was in a raised platform, circular with steps leading off of two ends. On each circular side were terminals and screens, all turned off. The floor had circles designed inside of each other. In the very center, a glowing sigil was there, orange. It resembled the one on my chest, but was missing the hard angled slash that went through the center. I looked up, seeing the room end at an odd-looking door. Frowning, I turned back around, and my eyes widened in amazement. 

The entire wall was made of glass. Stretched out was the void, dotted by pinpricks of light. But that isn’t what my eyes were on. Taking up most of the view, stretched out before me, was Earth. The beautiful blue wrapped around splashes of green. But, scarred across the land, was a burning pentagram, unfathomably massive in size. Across the Earth, another one sat, encircled in runes. I walked slowly at first, and then ran, hitting the railing and staring into space, at my planet. My astonishment turned to overwhelming despair as I truly began to grasp the concept of not being on my own planet, coupled with being able to see the damage it had taken. The  _ true realization _ of  _ everything _ . 

I spun, looking around the vast chamber, before I returned to the Earth. Tangling my fists in my hair, I started to scream.

At some point, I had collapsed. Curled against the railing as I sobbed and rocked myself, whimpering and blubbering all the while. 

The ground shook briefly, I weakly looked up. A little ways away, a metal structure started whirring to life. Terrified, I scrambled to my feet and ran, hiding behind the circled platform as I watched. Two sides of a semi-circle raised and clacked together. A platform rolled out and connected to it. There, in the center, a blue ball sputtered to life and began to grow. The portal, I realized, as it grew with the swirling blues and whites.

I cried out and spun, tumbling down and choosing to crawl away. Quickly, I found a table with a barrel pushed next to it. I scooted under it as fast as I could, as I heard metal boots clatter against a metal floor. I curled myself around the barrel, squeezed there against that and the wall. It was quiet for a while, all I could hear was silence, and then steady footsteps, and then silence again.

And then: _ “Her lifeforce is still in this room.”  _

The footsteps circled around. I saw green boots pass the table and I stifled a whimper, sliding back further. He stopped. 

Turning steadily, he came close, stopping just in front of it. Just as he had before.

The barrel moaned out in resistance as it was pushed aside, I tried to scramble to the other side, but the table was pushed out of the way as well. There, he watched me for a second, like I was a mouse stuck in a trap. He reached down and I scittered around the barrel, pulling myself to my feet. Poles stuck from it. 

Terrified, I grabbed one, pulling it out with some effort. It thunked back to the ground when it yanked free, heavy, and unbalanced in my grasp. I looked down and realized it was a weapon. It resembled a fire poker, with a forward and backward facing spear point on the end. I backed up and raised it with both hands. It shook in my grip, too heavy, but my only option. 

The Slayer stared at me, and then grabbed the poker, ripping it from my hold and shoving it back into the barrel. That plan wasn’t that full proof anyway.

I began to spin around, but couldn’t even do that, as I was picked up and shoved against the wall. I shrieked out and kicked, but returned to only struggling once I remembered he was clad  _ entirely in metal _ . One of his hands moved to grab my arm, moving it aside as his other pushed against my shoulder, holding me still as I still thrashed in his hold. 

He waited until I grew tired, then caught my eyes and shook his head no. Not breaking the stare, I weakly jerked my arm once, before stopping entirely. 

Slowly, he moved his hand, gripping my shirt. For a moment, I started to panic, opening my mouth to scream, tears sprung from nowhere and I shrank back, squeezing my eyes shut. I couldn’t bring forth the sound, however. The energy was gone, because I knew here I was entirely alone, and no one would hear me.

He tugged it aside, just barely. Then he stopped, holding it there. Shakily, I dared to look at him, his eyes on my chest. There, he observed the burn. He released my arm, moving to touch it with cold caresses. I flinched under the feeling, eyes wide as I watched him. 

He let go, letting the fabric return back to where it sat. He took a step back, his eyes snapping back to mine as he fully turned, walking away. 

I released my breath, almost losing it right then. But I had to know. I couldn’t… Let him go without knowing

“Slayer-” he stopped at my shaking, quiet voice.

I shook, taking a small step closer, “Is he dead? Did you... kill Asmond?” The man didn’t move for a moment, but then he moved just enough so that I could see his face. 

He shook his head, just barely enough to let me know.

I breathed a sigh, dropping my head, but barely able to not drop to my knees, “Why am I here?”

I wasn’t given any more answers, the Slayer began to walk away. I stayed where I was, looking down. I watched as he went to his own terminal, back at the circular area in the center of the chamber, tapping at the screens. I looked around, finding the odd-shaped door a few meters from where I stood.

Slowly, I scooted along the wall, eyeing him down, the whole time. He paid me no mind, busy. Moving away from him, I approached the odd door. It was also a half-sphere, with a scary looking demon carved into it, who had no eyes, and whose head resembled a crown. When I got close enough, it loudly whirred as it slid open, the sidings falling and sliding in on one another. I whipped around and already saw the Slayer moving away from the screen. Not wasting any more time, I leaped through the door and started to run. 

I could hear the Slayer following, but he didn’t speed up, going at a steady pace. As if following a loose dog and seeing where it would go. I eventually turned a corner and sputtered into a door, having to wait as it slid open too slowly. I turned as it did, seeing that the Slayer had slowed down, his head cocked slightly as he watched where I would go.

When it opened, I leaped in, but felt my confidence crumble as I stopped. It looked like a room, like a literal bedroom. There were more windows that opened into space, a, uh, computer sat there. One of the fancy ones with three screens. Across the room, there was a bookshelf. The… Beast can read? I was so taken aback by normal things that I forgot I was running for my life. I was reminded of my fear when I saw a tattered cage tossed in a corner, looking like it had been long forgotten. 

Clearly, this was not where I wanted to be. I turned around, wanting to leave  _ now.  _ The Slayer, however, had moved to the open doorway, blocking it. 

I clasped my hands together, unsure if shock held my shredded confidence tightly together, “Look. As much as I adore this game of cat and mouse, I clearly took a wrong turn, and so if you would kindly scoot over I’ll return to the table.”

Instead, the Slayer stepped into the room, forcing me to back up. 

_ “I believe the Slayer will be more comfortable if you stay in here.” _

I narrowed my eyes, taken aback, and also taking a step back, “Who are you?”  
_“Vega.”_ Was all the voice said. 

I frowned, shrinking in on myself, “No, I-I want to go home.”

_ “Earth is unsafe, I’m afraid it is-” _

Tears welled in my eyes, “I-I don’t want to be here, please take me back.”

_ “To hell?” _

I nodded, wiping at my face as I turned away, “I don’t… I-I don’t want to be here. I want to go…”

The Beast grunted, personally replying with a head shake this time. Then he brushed past me, so fast I flinched as he did. When he paused and looked back at me, he waited. When I didn’t move, he began to turn. That’s when I started following, not wanting to be man-handled anymore. He crossed the room, approaching another door. It opened, and he stepped through, I followed nervously.

There was a bed tucked into the corner, the entire room was dark. I tensed and quickly turned to leave. But the man laid a hand on my shoulder, effortlessly guiding me back to the bed.

Shaking, I allowed him, all the way to the part where he sat me down. I shook my head and covered my face with my hands, sobs briefly wracked my body. But I didn’t stop him as he puppeteered my body. Lifting my legs carefully as he turned my body, sliding me onto the bed.

I could feel it all, every touch. Every cold, heartless touch. 

_This is the fate of an Ant’wren_ , I repeated in my mind, squeezing my eyes shut.  
I closed my eyes. Shakes wracked my body as I waited. And waited. And waited. But then a blanket fell over top of me, I hadn’t even noticed he had pulled it back. His hands stayed on my body a moment longer, one palm pressed on my exposed shoulder, another placed on the covered burn. 

I opened my eyes in surprise, seeing him retract his hold. Then he stood, pausing a second, assessing where I laid. He silently turned, and with quiet steps, he crossed the room, walking through the door. It slid shut, casting the room into heavy darkness. 

When I was sure he was gone, I reached under the covers, grabbing the coin from the inside of my waist line. Carefully, I slipped it out, reaching my hand out from under the covers, letting it hang over the edge of the bed. The coin clattered against the ground, It cracked quietly, and the room was cast in a gentle green glow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter, made up for with a new story arc!

**Author's Note:**

> My first work here on Archive! I'm so excited to expand this story.  
> Since it's long formatted, I prefer to give the character a name and description, makes it easier on me.  
> Please comment any suggestions, ideas, or thoughts, I'll get back to you!  
> Thank you for reading, I will update weekly to bi-weekly. Though, I am known to take longer due to my depression. It comes in waves, but I manage it the best I can!


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